Distant Worlds, Broken Souls
by CSKazaam
Summary: The peace of the Lifestream is once again disrupted by Sephiroth - this time, it's up to Zack to stop him. The attempt goes awry, however, and the two find themselves on a very distant world with no way home, and the trust between them broken.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note:** Well, I've officially gone off the deep end. This story will hopefully be the first of several FF7/Star Wars crossover fics that I'm planning to eventually write. It will be a series of chapter fics and oneshots that will be centered more around Zack and Sephiroth than any other FF7 or Star Wars character. Since I'm not really familiar enough with the official Star Wars characters to write them (and since I'm hoping this could still fit somewhere within the main Star Wars timeline), I'm not planning to bring in the official characters too often. So I will create some OCs as needed to move the story along, though it seems inevitable that certain official characters will show up at some point! This will also be the first fic that I'll be posting chapter by chapter as I write it - previously, I've had the entire story written before I post anything. So this will definitely be an interesting experience for me! And it also allows you to suggest ideas and plot points that I might incorporate. :) Many thanks to LuckyLadybug who let me throw my crazy ideas at her! And now, here is the official launch of my new crossover verse. Hope you enjoy!

**EDIT: **Apologies if you get an email about this chapter again - I'm replacing the scene dividers that FanFiction(dot)Net so unkindly deleted for me.

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**Distant Worlds, Broken Souls**

**By**

**Kazaam**

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**Prologue**

_Hey…would you say…I became a hero?_

There was a time, once, when things were peaceful in the Lifestream.

It had been a relief, a comfort, to finally cross the threshold into the life energy of the Planet. It was like going _home_. With the warmth spreading through him as Angeal reached down a guiding hand, Zack felt that he had at last woken from the nightmare that had all but consumed him over the last five years. The chains that had bound him to it were finally slipping away.

His trials and pain were over. He'd earned his peace, finally able to rest after everything – the horrors, the sadness, the regret. Like the sunlight breaking through dark rain clouds, his heart was at ease. He'd passed his legacy on to Cloud – his own time was over now. He knew Cloud would have difficult choices ahead, but he knew he'd make it and, right now, everything was all right.

He could rest.

It was a true joy to see Angeal again. Gone were Zack's resentment and doubts over Angeal's prior actions. There was only forgiveness, acceptance…friendship and love. The confusion and uncertainty that had plagued Zack as he and Cloud had trekked across the Planet had melted away. Zack could feel how proud Angeal was over everything he had done to overcome their situation and fight back, to save Cloud and reach freedom. There were no words to describe how powerful the emotions were, nearly overwhelming the two at their long awaited reunion. But this was the Lifestream, and no words were needed.

As Angeal pulled him into a strong embrace, enfolding him within the warmth and safety of his wings, Zack could feel the rest of the Planet welcoming him with open arms. They rejoiced at his success, for that's exactly what it was. There was no sense of having failed in dying and leaving friends and loved ones behind. Zack had accomplished everything he was supposed to; things were no longer up to him to face. That was a journey that Cloud and others would take, but Zack had ensured that the first steps down that road had been made.

There were no regrets within Zack's heart, as he ascended into the heavens. He was at peace.

And so, there was a time, once, when all was calm within the Lifestream.

Until Sephiroth discovered that he could control the spirits of those who were once SOLDIERs.

The peace was not immediately disrupted, for Sephiroth was subtle, insidious, working slowly, carefully, to avoid discovery.

After being sent to the Lifestream, Sephiroth had occupied his time with learning the secrets of the Ancients, the Cetra, understanding the workings of the Planet and the life that circled within and around it. He'd harbored the knowledge and gathered his strength for the day when he would finally set his plans into motion, the day when he would hold the vastness of the Lifestream itself in the palm of his hand and declare himself a god.

The alien entity known as Jenova had enlightened him, revealing his true purpose on this world. Though she'd sought to impose her will upon him though her cells that existed within, deceiving him with the very ruse she'd used to mislead and vanquish the Cetra, Sephiroth's will was too strong. The lie worked, however, but rather than becoming a tool for her, Sephiroth adopted her will and purpose as his own. In essence, they became one and the same – Sephiroth was Jenova, and Jenova, Sephiroth. He maintained his identity, but it was merely as if they were one coin, with his image on one side and hers on the other.

During his quest for knowledge, Sephiroth discovered that, through the Jenova cells, he was able to influence others who held the same cells: SOLDIERs.

So he toyed with this power, lightly manipulating the spirits of SOLDIERs who'd already come to the Lifestream. Jenova cells were like parasites – they refused to relinquish hold even once their hosts had died, and so they tenaciously clung to their spirits even after death. In essence, this was a small portion of the Lifestream that Sephiroth could bend to his will.

Could he use these souls, this contaminated Lifestream, to help bring about his goals?

The troublesome fact remained, however, that there simply weren't enough corrupted souls to be had. He was certain that the rest of the Lifestream would swamp him with its power had he tried to do anything extreme. So he chose to lay low for a while, and instead focused his attentions on one blond infantryman – the same infantryman who'd succeeded in unexpectedly killing him in the Nibelheim reactor, and who, now, thanks to Hojo, Sephiroth could sense through Jenova's cells.

It wasn't as if Sephiroth held a grudge against him, of course, the ordinary _boy _who'd successfully taken down the most _powerful_ man on the Planet. Not at all. It was just that his mind was so _weak_. And it was so deliciously fitting, so wonderfully ironic, that he be used to orchestrate Sephiroth's own rise to power.

Zack was blissfully unaware of this for some time after joining the Lifestream. He'd deserved his rest, after all, and was busy getting the hang of his new existence, glad to once again be reunited with Angeal and other friends who'd gone before him.

He didn't know what prompted him to first turn his attention back to the events on the Planet. But once he did, and saw that Sephiroth was somehow moving about, he was suddenly aware of the dark, malevolent presence buried deep within the Lifestream.

How had he not noticed it before? Had he been so blinded by the relief and peace of the Lifestream that he'd just ignored anything that threatened to upset that? Zack was furious with himself. Despite everything he'd been though, he couldn't call an end to his duties, not if Sephiroth was involved. Not if the danger was coming from the Lifestream itself!

But _how_ had Sephiroth done it? It seemed as if he was able to reach out of the Lifestream and influence people as if they were mere puppets.

There was only one way to find out, and that was from Sephiroth himself. So, with Angeal cautioning him to be careful, Zack took off for the Northern Crater, where his presence seemed to be centered.

Over the next year, Zack attempted to stop Sephiroth, to try to talk some sense into him. The betrayal at Nibelheim and the horrors in Hojo's care had thankfully faded during the short time before Zack left to confront him, allowing Zack's resentment for his former General to fade with it, so he hoped that Sephiroth could be saved from this madness. He hoped this would be his second chance to make up for his failure to help him at Nibelheim. He hoped that he could still call Sephiroth a friend.

It was during his first direct confrontation that Zack learned firsthand how Sephiroth was able to extend his reach over the Planet. For Zack had Jenova cells within him, more, Sephiroth was pleased to note, than the other SOLDIERs in the Lifestream. Hojo had done his job well. Zack's soul was almost as corrupted as Sephiroth's own.

Sephiroth seized control of Zack's essence, crushing his spirit in an iron vice. His will smothered Zack's own, and he was almost lost completely, despite frantic struggles to break free. It wasn't until Sephiroth directed Zack to take the Masamune and strike down a certain Ancient, sure to be a thorn in his side if she wasn't stopped, that his sheer panic lent him the strength needed to throw off Sephiroth's influence.

Zack fled.

He hid from Sephiroth, burying himself within the Lifestream, horrified at what he'd almost done. He'd been so close to taking the life of his beloved with his own hands, and utterly powerless to stop her inevitable death. Was there nothing he could do?

When she arrived in the Lifestream, Zack almost couldn't bring himself to see her, the guilt weighing heavy on his heart. But he did, and her forgiveness and gentle encouragement prompted him to try to reach Sephiroth again.

And again. And again.

For two years after the destruction of Meteor, Zack tried to confront Sephiroth, to save Cloud the pain of having to deal with him. He tried everything he could think of to reach out to the man.

In the end, they fought. Zack lost track of the number of skirmishes they had. Sometimes it would be quick, sometimes there would be a grand struggle, and sometimes Sephiroth would brush him aside as easily as one would flick a fallen autumn leaf off a shoulder.

Zack wondered if Sephiroth only deigned to battle him for amusement.

Through all this, Zack was forced to guard his mind from Sephiroth's dark influence. Aerith had showed him how. It was a struggle to keep up, however, and at times his control slipped. It was at these times that Sephiroth confronted him with his own memories…memories of Nibelheim. There was fire and death and _pain_…so much pain. It cracked his control further, wore down his spirit. Sephiroth rarely attempted a direct takeover like that first time, but Zack was aware of nudges on his consciousness every so often, leaving him jumping at shadows. He could never be sure whether he was unknowingly falling right into Sephiroth's hands.

At some point, Zack had gone from wanting to _save_ Sephiroth, to wanting to _defeat_ him. He wasn't even aware that the shift in his thinking had occurred. He was simply bent on stopping the man by any means necessary, and if that meant completely destroying him, then that was what would be done.

Perhaps Zack's efforts should be credited for it taking Sephiroth two years to make his next move on the Planet. In any case, Zack seemed as powerless to keep him from returning to battle Cloud, as he had been to keep him from killing Aerith. It appeared that Sephiroth had made his hatred for Cloud the core of his very being. It was impossible to compete with a feeling that unbelievably strong.

After Sephiroth and his remnants were defeated by Cloud, Zack, once again, went to face him.

It was getting incredibly hard to keep this up. Zack worried that Sephiroth would soon grow tired of his constant interference and just destroy him. But if there was yet one last thing he was able to do, and one last ounce of energy left to his spirit, he would keep trying.

Zack had one more plan to put into action. He'd discovered something new about Sephiroth: when Cloud had defeated him two years ago, before the Lifestream had even pushed back Meteor to save the Planet, Sephiroth had sacrificed a part of himself. He'd surrendered all the memories of who he was to the Lifestream: precious memories, memories of when he was young, of his friends, Angeal and Genesis and Zack, of all the happy moments they'd shared, of the sad moments, of battles and hopes and dreams…of everything. Everything except for his hatred of Cloud and memories deeply related to it, which he'd rebuilt his soul around. In effect, the Sephiroth that existed now had been born in the fires of Nibelheim. He was nothing but a force of hatred and destruction, a dark phoenix with evil at his heart and the goal of destroying all life on the Planet.

With that being the case, it was no surprise that none of Zack's efforts had succeeded in getting through to him. So, Zack had taken it upon himself to travel the Lifestream, collecting all the fragments of Sephiroth's memories and piecing them together, reconstructing an image of the _real_ Sephiroth, his General and mentor, his _friend_.

_Friend_. How strange to think of that word in conjunction with Sephiroth now. It had been so long since those days…eight years. Eight _years_! Zack hoped that this would be the end of things, one way or another. He didn't think he could keep going like this. His spirit was literally wearing thin.

Zack hoped that, in confronting Sephiroth with all those memories, all at once, they would overwhelm him and break his madness. He couldn't help but absorb them all, becoming the person he once was and ending this nightmare.

Zack hoped so, anyway. And that the person he once was wouldn't just shed all the memories all over again. Zack didn't know what he'd do if that happened.

It took a while, and Zack took painstaking care to ensure that no one found out what he was doing, not even Aerith… He didn't want to chance a whisper of this somehow getting back to Sephiroth. And when, after a small eternity, Zack finally had all the pieces, he set out in search of that core of hatred. He bid a silent farewell to Aerith, not wanting to let her know even then, even as he regretted it. He knew that she was worried about him, worried that he'd break under the stress and might not come back to her. He tried not to worry about it himself, though he knew all too well that it might be true.

This was it. Zack knew, deep down, that there were no other options left if he failed. Sephiroth was simply too powerful. There was no other way to talk him out of it, for there was nothing of the original Sephiroth left to reach – Zack now held all that there had been in the palms of his own hands.

If this didn't work, Sephiroth would continue to return to the Planet, tormenting Cloud, again and again and again. It might be several years before each return, but return he would, because Sephiroth's will was indomitable and there was more corruption in the Lifestream than there had ever been before. The Jenova cells endured, as Sephiroth did, and as long as one or the other remained, the Planet was in danger. Cloud and the others wouldn't always be around to stop him at every reincarnation. Eventually, they would tire, one by one, each coming home to the Lifestream.

Fortifying his own spirit for the grueling battle ahead, Zack held the precious fragments of the real Sephiroth close to his heart, and set out in search of the monster his friend had become, following the dark waves reverberating through the Lifestream. Zack was determined to finish this, and if he regained a friend or was at last torn asunder until nothing remained…so be it.

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**End Prologue**


	2. If You Want to be a Hero

**EDIT: **Apologies if you get an email about this chapter again - I'm replacing the scene dividers that FanFiction(dot)Net so unkindly deleted for me.

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**Chapter One**

**If You Want to be a Hero…**

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_Sephiroth…where are you?_

Zack drifted in the Lifestream, unsure which way to turn now. He'd followed the familiar, dark vibrations radiating from Sephiroth's spirit, but now they were oddly distorted, and he no longer quite knew which direction to go.

He frowned, "listening" to the movement of the Lifestream around him and the patterns it made. The energy of the souls, green and luminous, swirled and danced around him, pulsing with the rise and fall of a great tide, the heartbeat of the Planet.

Zack had always found enjoyment in racing through the rivers of life among the other spirits. The Lifestream had different moods, depending on the season and the nature of the souls, and even upon Zack's feelings at the time. Sometimes it was exhilarating, like riding with dolphins leaping through the surf, or chasing a galaxy of shooting stars across the heavens. At other times, it was unpredictable, churning and playful, gusting like the wind in the canyons. Still yet, it could be the cool, gentle brush of delicate butterfly wings against his face, dancing in light eddies in the current, or tiny warm sparks ghosting slowly upward into the night sky, as if from the everlasting Candle in Cosmo Canyon.

He and Aerith used to dance among them occasionally, just the two of them. Well, and the thousands of other spirits around them, but the spirits didn't intrude, and they really only had eyes for each other. Zack smiled fondly, as he remembered.

But that was before he'd had to dedicate his efforts to stopping Sephiroth. He sighed. More than anything, he wished that this could be over with. He just wanted to return to Aerith, maybe watch over Cloud and the others with her. He never even got to say goodbye before he left this last time. He'd always made a point of it before…you know, just in case. But he didn't want to see the worry in her eyes, the unasked questions over something he couldn't tell her. It was better this way, he told himself, so that Sephiroth wouldn't somehow find out what he was doing. He was clever like that, so Zack just couldn't take any chances.

Zack wished that none of this had ever happened. The good old days before his death, before Nibelheim, were just a dim memory. With another sigh, Zack closed his fingers around the warmth of the treasured item he was carrying, holding it close. Well, at least there were some memories that weren't so dim. Sephiroth's memories…

It had been such a heartbreaking task, gathering them all. He remembered when he found the first memory – it had been a child's laughter. _Sephiroth's_ laughter! Zack didn't even know he'd ever had a reason to laugh as a child, what with being in Hojo's tender care. It must've been from an earlier time, before Professor Gast left. The laughter had echoed the images of bright, innocent green eyes and short silver hair, of a small boy scrambling about in play. It was the most adorable thing Zack had ever heard, and the most tragic – lost to the distant past as Sephiroth grew up, and now discarded like a useless piece of trash.

The memory had given him hope – the first _real_ hope he'd had since Sephiroth had nearly made him kill Aerith with his own hands. He shuddered, not wanting to remember. Why Sephiroth had not fully invaded his mind again remained a mystery, but Zack supposed he should be grateful for that small miracle. But, Gaia help him, he had been so badly shaken that it was almost impossible to feel gratitude, or anything good, towards that…_monster_. That event had sent Zack on a downward spiral. He'd tried to bounce back, stay the cheerful, optimistic SOLDIER he'd always been, and he thought for a while that he'd succeeded… But that optimism had been a mask, hiding a growing well of doubt and misery. Fight after fight, always ending inconclusively or with defeat, didn't help him at all. He'd come to think of Sephiroth as a dark spectre, a demon lurking within the dimmest depths of the Lifestream. He was Zack's nightmare.

But that ringing laughter had finally shone a small, but ever so bright, ray of light into the darkness.

That first memory had been linked by a thin, fragile thread to another, which Zack had carefully followed. That, in turn, had led to another, and another until, at long last, Zack had them all gathered up safely in his arms.

Some of the memories, like that one, had been truly joyful. But there had been others so full of pain and despair that he'd wanted to weep for his friend. He half wondered why the very Planet itself hadn't wept for him. He hadn't deserved that life, the innocent boy with the pure laugh and clear, shining eyes. But that had been the only life he'd been given, and though Zack now knew more about his friend than he'd ever wanted to know, he was incredibly proud of him. It was _his_ friend who'd been that boy, _his_ friend who'd grown strong despite the torture, _his_ friend who'd become the trusted advisor and General, who cared about and watched out for his SOLDIERs and allies.

And soon, it would be his friend once more.

But now, the real question was where should he go? He'd already been drifting here for some time, trying to figure it out.

_What the heck, Sephiroth? You never cared about trying to hide before. _He was so powerful that he could easily crush anything that bothered him. He'd had no reason to hide what he was doing, as far as Zack knew, though he never openly declared his plans, either. In fact, Sephiroth had always seemed to find amusement in knowing that those in the Lifestream watched, powerless to stop him. So why start concealing things now?

The dark whispers emanating from Sephiroth's presence echoed chaotically around Zack, as if he was in some kind of fun house. It was impossible to tell from which direction they were coming. Zack groaned. Now he'd probably have to comb the entire area. _I just hope he doesn't decide to get the drop on me. Again._ He shuddered.

He started forward, the currents of the Lifestream parting before him, already planning the path he'd take. He couldn't really pick a reference point to start from, and there wasn't a true up or down, but he'd learned through practice that he could feel where he'd been before. Sometimes he got mixed up, but he'd really been getting better…

After a long while, which could have been anything from hours to months, as far as Zack could tell, he finally seemed to be closing in on…whatever he was closing in on. The Lifestream whirled thickly about him, and the dark energies thrummed in his ears now, he could feel them vibrating around and through him. That had to mean he was on the right track, didn't it?

Suddenly, the Lifestream parted. Zack came to a halt, stunned at the sight before him.

It was a storm. That was the only thing that could describe it, even though Zack had never seen weather of any kind in the Lifestream. He was still some distance from it, and it was difficult to judge the size from here with nothing solid to compare it to, but it felt _big_. It was a dark, roiling mass, churning in the center of the wall of Lifestream rotating around it. Clearly, the Lifestream gave it a wide berth, wanting nothing to do with it.

As Zack looked closer, he could see flashes of light from the inside, almost like lightning in a supercell. As he watched, a jagged bolted lashed out, arcing across the gap and spearing into the surrounding Lifestream. A small portion of the shimmering green blackened and fell, swirling down into the tempest.

Zack gasped. Was that…Dark Lifestream? The same corrupted Lifestream Zack had watched Sephiroth call down during his last battle with Cloud? Was that what the storm was made of?

But how was that even possible? Zack didn't know how much Dark Lifestream there was, but surely there hadn't been _that_ much, had there? And it seemed to be capable of corrupting the Lifestream around it, through whatever energy bolt it had used! How was Sephiroth doing it?

_Guess there's only one way to find out._

Drumming up his courage, he drifted forward, leaving the relative safety of the Lifestream, one lonely little soul floating toward the massive black sea. It loomed over him as he neared it, dark and foreboding.

He paused, as he got within arm's reach, suddenly apprehensive. There'd been a growing dread forcing itself upon him as he'd approached, and now he felt his resolve failing him. No wonder the Lifestream kept its distance; his very spirit was trembling under the oppressive darkness the storm was radiating.

Zack didn't know if he could force himself to move any closer.

What if he turned back right now? Gave up this useless charade? _I could go back and see Aerith. We could be happy and just ignore Sephiroth. Cloud'll be okay – he did great during that last fight! There's no reason to worry about him anymore…_

He stared into the boiling clouds, doubt and fear filling his heart. _I don't really _have_ to do this…_

But then he looked down at the radiant glow of the memories he was holding, and the misgivings were driven away. Yes, he _did_ have to do this. There was someone counting on him, though that person didn't know it yet. And Zack wasn't going to let him down.

He threw off his reservations and reached out a hand toward the blackness. Hesitating for only a moment, he thrust it inside.

It burned. Zack gritted his teeth and pushed forward. The final step that immersed him completely made him cry out in agony - the Dark Lifestream tore at him, ripping at his essence, trying to dig invisible claws into the core of his being. He resisted as best he could, but knew he couldn't take too much of this. He shut his eyes, concentrating on making it through, on denying the Lifestream purchase on his soul.

At some point, Zack was certain he wasn't going to make it. Was the entire storm like this? How would he find, let alone defeat, Sephiroth in _this_? He could feel himself weakening, battered about by the violent energies. He was going to be ripped apart!

Abruptly, the ferocious winds were gone, and Zack gasped in surprised relief, eyes flying open. He drifted weakly downward, away from the maelstrom raging behind him, to come to rest on his hands and knees on a solid surface.

He took a moment to gather his strength. With a grim smirk, he noticed that he was quite transparent now – the Dark Lifestream had really done a number on him. Black wisps of smoke drifted off of him, as if water vaporized by the sun…but there was no sun here. He slowly sat back to look around him, wincing in pain. His spirit really didn't want to move just yet.

It was dark here. Not black, but it was awash in a permanent state of gloom, as if from a land where the sun never shone, and a heavy mist lay upon everything. The very existence of the land was a puzzle – there was no land in the Lifestream, not as it existed on the Planet, anyway. Zack frowned.

The ground he knelt on was cold and slightly damp, the soil coarse. It stretched away from him, meeting up with the smooth, dark surface of a lake. Just beyond the lake, rising out of the fog, was a curious tower that appeared as if someone had carved large windows into a giant seashell and planted it into the shore. Zack stared in astonishment. He remembered this place. Somewhere deep inside the structure was where Aerith had died. The lake was where Cloud had laid her to rest. …It was the Forgotten Capital. The City of the Ancients.

Slowly, Zack stood. Far above, the black storm still raged. It drew a wall all around this place, which Zack had come through, but the Capital itself seemed to exist in an island of relative calm.

_ So… this is where you've been hiding. But how can this place exist in the Lifestream?_

Zack had so many questions, but there wasn't time to figure them out. He started for the building. As the mists parted before him, swirling around his boots, he thought he heard faint whispers, just on the edge of his perception. He gazed around, warily. Was it just his imagination, or was there really something there?

Skirting the edge of the lake, he stared into the depths. He half expected some horrible creature to leap out at him. Thankfully, nothing did, and Zack proceeded inside the enormous shell.

What followed was a long journey downward. The inside of the shell was a maze, but it seemed that no matter what direction Zack chose, it always led deeper and deeper into the earth. Pearly surfaces eventually melted away and merged into jagged rock, still descending toward some unknown destination.

He wondered when he would arrive at the pool where Aerith had…died…and from which the magic of Holy had sprung. But it never materialized. _Am I even on the right track? _What if he'd gotten lost among all the twists and turns? He'd just have to continue onward, he realized. There was no way to tell whether this was the right path, but that would have been the same about any other. He wouldn't know to turn back until he came to a dead end.

As he walked, the whispers around him grew louder, almost reaching the point where he thought he could understand them. But it was disconcerting… Sometimes it would sound like they originated from across the room or down a hallway, and other times as if they were whispering right into his ear. He jumped whenever that occurred, always whirling to look around him. It was downright spooky.

…Rather ironic, since Zack himself was a spirit, and considered that he should be the one doing the spooking. If only there was actually anything around here to spook.

Things continued like this for a while longer, until, at last, the stone room he was in opened up into an enormous cavern. He stared in awe.

Providing the only splash of real color he'd yet seen, large, pale green crystals sprung from the floors, walls, and ceiling. They varied in size from those smaller than his fist, gathering in clusters around the edges, to giant crystals taller than he was. And in the center of the room was the largest yet, a brilliant emerald hue, with a mysterious light shimmering from within.

It was breathtaking. Who knew that such a place existed underneath the Forgotten City? It was a Mako fountain, but on a scale much grander than he would ever have imagined. The crystallized Lifestream hummed around him, filling the cavern with pure tones of energy. Zack approached the central stone, gazing about in wonder.

Here, the eerie whispers were much louder, allowing him to make out some of the words. Then, a voice, deep and familiar, spoke into his ear and made his heart stop:

"Glad you could make it…_Zack_."

The voice chilled him to the core. Whirling around, he came face to face with the very person he'd been looking for, the person he'd dreaded most to find. _Sephiroth_.

Immediately, he leapt back, drawing his sword. It was the standard SOLDIER sword, as Cloud still had the Buster in his possession.

Sephiroth smirked. "What's this? Another fight? Come now, Zack, haven't you tired of these games?"

"Games? Is that all you think this is?" Zack demanded, as he watched Sephiroth circle him, moving to keep his sword between them. "You've been playing with people's lives and trying to take over the Planet!"

"Well. They were traitors." As if that explained it all.

Zack made a disgusted sound. "I still can't believe you. How _could_ you…!" He broke off, shaking his head. "Bah, who am I kidding? As if anything you say could be trusted."

Sephiroth chuckled. Then he turned and spread his arms, drawing attention to the cavern they were in. "I have discovered a new way to take back this planet. This Mako spring… It is the source of the Lifestream, the reason the Cetra established their capital here."

With an eye on Sephiroth, Zack cast his gaze once more about the chamber. The crystals all exuded a faint greenish aura. If he looked closely, he could see occasional bright sparks drifting upward from them, only to fade into the air.

"…That's why this place exists in the Lifestream?"

Sephiroth smirked again in faint amusement. "Zack. Who's to say what really exists in the Lifestream? Are we still in the Lifestream, or some place else entirely? Who knows what barrier you passed through when you came here?"

Zack scowled. From his knowing tone, Sephiroth was just playing with him, as if indulging a child. He should have known he couldn't expect a straight answer.

"This place is kept alive in the Lifestream by the memories of those who once existed here. Haven't you heard them? They're still here."

Uneasily, Zack remembered the voices that whispered to him as he'd made his way down here. They still drifted in the background, providing a faint murmur behind the conversation.

"The spirits…are they trapped here?"

Sephiroth shrugged. "What does it matter? We are all confined within prisons of a sort, some of our own making, and some…not." He chuckled again, and this time Zack thought there might have been a desperate edge to it.

The former General turned away; Zack took note of how he gazed intently at the large crystal in the center of the room.

"Enough of this. I brought you here so you could witness this moment. On this day, the Lifestream will bend to my will, and the Planet will be mine, as is my birthright!"

"_You_ brought me here! Ha! I don't think so, Sephiroth. I've come to stop you, for good this time!" Zack tensed, tightening his grip on the sword. Somehow, he had to get close enough to… Quickly, he stopped those thoughts. Sephiroth was likely capable of hearing them, so not thinking about his plan was the only way to keep it secret.

Sephiroth smiled, darkly. "Are you so sure of that? You wouldn't be here unless I wanted you here." Suddenly, he was beside Zack, whispering in his ear. "Your actions have always been _mine_."

"No!" Furious, Zack whirled, lashing out with his blade, only to have it cut through thin air. Sephiroth was now standing before the giant crystal.

"Join me, Zack. I think I would miss the amusement you give me, if I killed you now. I could teach you to use your own dark powers; together, we will take this Planet and ascend into the heavens!"

Zack shook his head, his anger growing. "You're insane! The Sephiroth I'd follow doesn't exist anymore." Another part of him wondered what the man had meant about his own dark powers, but he didn't have the time to worry about it.

Another smirk, then Sephiroth threw back his head and laughed. The cruel sound echoed around them. "I wasn't aware that I was _asking_ you, Zackary. You don't have a choice in the matter."

Zack's eyes widened. _What…!_

All at once, a dark force invaded Zack's mind, seeking out and crushing his own thoughts. It was what Zack had feared most would happen. Sephiroth was attempting to take over his mind, to consume his spirit and have him become just another puppet for his own evil plans.

Zack fell to his knees with a cry, gripping his head. His sword clattered uselessly to the ground. "_No…!_" He tried to resist the weight of Sephiroth's will, but the darkness was surrounding him, suffocating him. "Sephiroth…"

Sephiroth stalked toward him, kicking the sword out of the way. He kneeled beside the SOLDIER First and placed a hand on Zack's head. "Don't resist," he murmured, and for a cruel moment, the voice almost sounded like Zack's old friend. "I'd rather not destroy more of you than is necessary."

All Zack could see now was a deep, impenetrable blackness. He could feel his thoughts, his very soul, being shredded, and, this time, nothing he did to resist seemed to be working. He was losing himself! He let out a choked cry. "Seph…_please_!"

Just as he felt he was going to be lost to the shadows of the abyss Sephiroth was drawing him into, something responded to his plea. The spark of memories he was carrying flared brightly, piercing through the darkness and driving back Sephiroth's will.

"_What?_ Impossible!" Sephiroth drew back, astonished. No will was strong enough to compete with his own!

Zack gasped, the life flooding back into him. For a moment, he thought he felt a protective arm around him, glimpsed silver hair at the edges of his vision. A large, black wing encircled him, and a long blade of light presented itself against the demon before him. _Now, Zack._

The image dissolved, but Zack was already moving. He rolled forward, seizing the hilt of his weapon, and dashed toward Sephiroth, aiming to get close enough to thrust the memories into his heart. But the Masamune suddenly materialized in Sephiroth's hand, and he struck outward, halting Zack's advance. Zack tried to drive through his defense, but Sephiroth would have none of it; he raised a hand, calling forth a protective whirlwind of Dark Lifestream that blasted Zack away.

Zack landed hard. He almost didn't have the chance to recover before Sephiroth was there, raining blows upon him. Frantically, he parried, looking for an opening. Sephiroth refused to give him one, however. Zack leapt away, desperate to get some space.

As Zack was occupied with Sephiroth, the Dark Lifestream thickened and coalesced into a solid form. It touched down onto the ground and grew, morphing into a hideous black shape. The main body was that of a great beast, sharp, wicked claws dripping with tainted Lifestream that scorched the very rock it was standing on. Where the head should be instead rose the twisted upper half of a woman. Horns framed her face, two jutting upwards to outline a mass of long, dark spines atop her head, and two thrusting down and outwards, warped imitations of human hair. Bony spines ran down the back of the creature, and four large, heavy wings stretched, joints crackling. A long tail ending in several cruelly barbed lashes thrashed about in the air.

It was Jenova.

Oblivious to this for the moment, Zack focused on his opponent. Summoning some energy, he charged up his blade and sent a shockwave hurtling toward his foe. Not surprisingly, Sephiroth easily deflected it and came after him once again. At the same time, the Jenova creature shook itself, then bounded swiftly toward them, leaping in at Zack from the side.

He caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and frantically dodged to the side, just in time to avoid being slammed into the ground. _What on Gaia!_ That thing was huge! He stared. The massive claws were larger than his torso, and the bestial centaur-like form was eerily reminiscent of the monster Angeal had become when Zack was forced to fight him. But Zack recognized the woman as the fiend from his nightmares who had started this whole thing. _Jenova!_

The beast crouched and then opened her mouth, revealing sharpened teeth, and _roared_. The deep bellow was overlaid with a piercing scream that shook the chamber, causing the Mako crystals to vibrate in protest. Zack recoiled, bringing up a free hand to clap over his ear, for as much good as it would do, and staggered backwards. The sound was excruciating!

Sephiroth grimaced, almost bringing up a hand to protect his own sensitive hearing. The creature had positioned itself between him and Zack, and he glared at it in annoyance, displeased with the interruption. Then the Jenova spawn lashed its tail, whipping it toward the SOLDIER First, forcing Sephiroth to step back lest he also be caught by the barbs. He glowered.

Zack wasn't as successful in escaping the unexpected blow from the tail, and yelped in pain as the barbs ripped into his arm. But they jarred him from the disorientation of the scream, and he leapt into action. Racing to the side of the creature, he darted in, stabbing upward into its flesh. Thick, black ichor welled out of the gash and spilled down his arm, burning into his spirit. Zack grit his teeth. The monster recoiled with a screech, and tried to bring its claws to bear on him. Pressing his advantage, Zack thrust his blade into the space just behind the giant foreleg, aiming for the heart. But he missed, or it never had one to begin with, and was forced to leap out of the way as the monster attempted to body slam him into the ground.

Sephiroth narrowed his eyes. He had _not_ intended to enlist Jenova in this fight; Zack was _his_, and his _alone_. He watched the scuffle a few more moments, then stepped forward to put an end to it.

"_Enough!_"

Both combatants regarded him in surprise. But Jenova, intending to follow her own will, chose to ignore him. With a flap of her wings, she pounced on Zack to rend him limb from limb.

Defiance from Jenova? Unforgivable!

"I said _enough_!" Sephiroth swung the Masamune, sending a shockwave to cut into Jenova, blasting her into the wall. She recovered, twisting around to regain her feet, and seemed about to ignore him again. Sephiroth reached out with his mind, driving his will into her own.

Jenova curled her lips and screamed at him. Then, with a mighty leap, she propelled herself into the air, fleeing into the shadows cloaking the roof of the cavern. She anchored herself in a dark crevice between the crystals, glaring out at him with baleful red eyes.

Taking advantage of Sephiroth's distraction, Zack pivoted and dashed back into the tunnels, even as he puzzled over what had just occurred between the General and Jenova. Didn't he have control over her? Weren't they practically the same? Or maybe Jenova didn't always carry out Sephiroth's will the way he intended.

In any case, hopefully, he'd only have one of them to deal with now! He tried to shake off Jenova's blood from his arm as he thought; it was still trying to eat through him. Somehow, he'd have to get the drop on Sephiroth. There was clearly no way he was going to be able to fight his way through, not directly. Sephiroth had always been better than he was.

Zack was suddenly aware of footsteps behind him; Sephiroth was coming. He dodged into a side chamber, and again into another, just as a blast of energy slammed into the wall where he'd been. He was gaining!

After finding himself in another long tunnel, the SOLDIER First skidded to a halt. He spun around, driving his sword toward Sephiroth, who parried, intent on pinning the blade against the wall. But Zack quickly let it drop, only to come around, slashing at Sephiroth's exposed side. Sephiroth grunted in displeasure, barely managing to block it in time. He found that it was rather cumbersome to maneuver his long weapon in these close quarters. He stepped back to give himself more room.

Quickly, Zack brought his sword upward, spearing it into the low ceiling. The force of the blow sent an avalanche of rock cascading down upon them. But Zack was already darting away, vanishing into the dark tunnels, with the rock safely blockading Sephiroth from him.

Zack took several more turns, hoping Sephiroth wouldn't be able to easily follow his twisted path. Finally he slowed. Sephiroth didn't seem to be coming. He strained his ears, listening. His heavy breaths echoed in the stillness.

Suddenly, the entire wall next to him exploded inward, slamming Zack painfully into the opposite wall with a yelp. He barely brought his blade up in time for the heavy blow Sephiroth inflicted upon him. The force was so great that the wall behind him shattered, and he was sent flying backward, once again into the main cavern. He hit the ground, tumbling head over heels before coming to an abrupt halt when a hard surface arrested his momentum. He groaned, having struck the back of his head on the object. He slumped against it, momentarily stunned.

"Do you honestly think you can stop me?" Zack heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Gritting his teeth with the effort, he raised his head and brought his sword up in defiance, only to see that the blade had been shattered. Sephiroth smirked at the futile action, and knocked the hilt out of his hand with a lazy flick of the wrist, sending it skittering across the floor. "Don't fool yourself."

Zack stared at the broken sword in shock, then raised his eyes, following the long blade of the Masamune up to its wielder. He glared.

"Are you gonna kill me now?" Zack wondered if that was even possible. Could spirits be killed? What would happen if they were?

"Hmm. I was intending to keep you alive to witness the destruction of your Planet." Sephiroth dropped the sword from Zack's neck, turning to regard the crystal in the center of the room. He left Zack, approaching it.

Zack cast his gaze about the room, searching for anything he could use to his advantage. A weapon, a stone… Heck, he'd even take a blue tonberry pie! He'd always wanted to throw one at Sephiroth, just to see his expression.

He supposed he could simply rush the man, but based on previous experience, the success rate on that wasn't too high. He straightened, leaning forward with a groan. Sephiroth cast a quick sidelong glance back at him, before proceeding to ignore him as he focused on the crystal.

What had he hit, anyway? Zack turned, spying the flat surface of a gemstone. Figures. …But wait… What was that behind it? He could see an odd shape through the crystal, distorted by the facets. He leaned to the side to bring it into view, and his jaw dropped at what he saw.

Hidden around the side, away from Sephiroth's prying eyes, was the Buster Sword. And it was the most gorgeous sight he'd ever laid eyes upon.

It was speared into the ground, the dark surface cleaned of all the _wear, tear, and rust_ that battle and elements had inflicted upon it, gleaming in the light. The golden wing motif shone as if brand new. And around the hilt, fluttering lightly in a small breeze, was tied a very familiar, shimmering, pink ribbon. Zack couldn't help but grin.

_ Thank you, Aerith, Angeal._ He should have known that they would somehow find out what he was up to. But how had they gotten the Buster Sword? He wondered if Cloud had been in on it too. Warmth filled his heart at this silent gesture of support. _Thanks, pal_.

Zack stood, reaching around the crystal, and gripped the hilt. Strength flooded back into him, and he pulled the blade from the ground, smiling at the reassuring weight. Gaia, how he'd missed it! With renewed determination, he faced Sephiroth. This was going to end, _now_.

With a growl, Zack dashed forward, blade aimed at his opponent. Sephiroth had his hands resting against the giant emerald; for a moment, Zack saw the crystal replaced by a tank with glowing liquid and a monster inside. He shook the memory away and prepared to swing.

Sephiroth was not to be caught twice by such a move, however. On instinct, he whirled, bringing the Masamune up to clash against the Buster Sword. His eyes widened, surprised to see the weapon.

"How…?"

Zack grinned, darkly. "Surprise! You didn't really think I was done yet, did you?" He shoved at Sephiroth, hoping to break his stance.

Sephiroth glowered. "You are testing my patience." Breaking the sword lock, he forced Zack away from him. "Don't make me cut you down, Zack."

"Actually, I had other plans." He came at Sephiroth again.

They traded blows for several long moments, until a kick to Sephiroth's leg caused him to stagger slightly, just enough for the opening Zack needed to appear. He drove forward with his fist, the discarded memories held tight under his fingers. At the last instant, he opened his hand, letting his palm slam into Sephiroth's chest, forcing the memories straight to his core.

Sephiroth gave a strangled gasp, staggering back. "What…are you…?" He raised a hand to his heart, not quite sure what had been done. Then he stared at Zack in shock. "My…memories?"

Zack smirked. "If there's one thing I learned from all these years of fighting you, it's that the only one who can defeat you…is you!"

Sephiroth shook his head in denial. "Do you…really think this will work? That pathetic shell of a man you called your friend is _gone_." He choked, sneering. "If you think…that a handful of memory fragments will bring him back…then you were a failure before you even began this useless plan."

"Sephiroth…" Zack shook his head, then stepped forward with confidence. "The Sephiroth I knew will _never_ be just a memory!"

The former General made a strangled sound, clutching at his heart. He turned such a glare of loathing upon Zack that it almost made the SOLDIER First want to turn tail and run. But he stood his ground. Sephiroth gasped, falling to his knees.

Was it working? It had to be! Zack took another step, hope lighting in his heart. This was it – at long last, the Sephiroth that had fallen to Jenova would be gone. His friend would be back. There would be no more Dark Lifestream, no more remnants, no more Reunion… The Planet, Cloud, and everyone else would be safe!

"…Seph…?"

Sephiroth's shoulders shook. It took a moment before Zack realized that he was laughing. Zack's brow furrowed in puzzlement and mounting apprehension. "Are you…"

The man straightened, his green eyes glinting evilly behind the veil of silver hair.

"Zack… I once offered Cloud a wonderful gift." He pulled himself to his feet, as Zack looked on in growing horror. "But he turned me down… Perhaps you would like to take it instead?" He lifted the Masamune, allowing it to catch the light and shine a promise of death. "Look upon your fate, and despair."

Sephiroth thrust the deadly blade forward, effortlessly knocking aside the Buster Sword Zack had hastily raised to block it. He drove it straight through Zack's heart.

Zack gasped, choking on the sharp agony pulsing through him. He let out a strangled cry and clutched at the blade in a futile attempt to lesson the pain, as Sephiroth levered him off the ground.

"…_W-Why?_ …S-Seph-iroth…" _It hadn't worked! _ Zack had been so sure that it would. Where had he gone wrong?

…He had failed. Gaia…he had _failed_, and now there weren't going to be any more second chances.

"A-Aerith…Angeal…Cloud…f-forgive…" He shut his eyes. He really was going to accept Sephiroth's gift.

Sephiroth smirked. "You're pathetic."

Pathetic…

_ …You call yourself SOLDIER? …I don't need such a pathetic SOLDIER…_

_ Angeal…I-I wish…_

_ I have twenty-three tiny wishes, but you probably won't remember them all…_

_ …Aerith…Remember me…Don't forget…_

_ I won't forget. …Goodnight, Zack._

_ …Cloud…My honor…my dreams… _

_If you want to be a hero…_

Zack's hand tightened on the sword he still held in his grip. _You need to have dreams._ He opened his eyes.

One dream, that of a friend rescued from the darkness of insanity, would never come to pass. But there was still another…

Gritting his teeth, Zack mustered the last vestiges of his strength and raised the Buster Sword high above his head. His eyes were locked on Sephiroth's, and he found faint amusement and confusion there.

"My honor…my d-dreams…"

He smashed the heavy weapon downward into the back of the Masamune. For a moment, the thin blade resisted, and it didn't appear that anything would come of his actions.

Then there was a pure ringing sound, like a bell of freedom, and the blade shattered. A weapon originally forged for good, it had finally thrown off the shackles of its corrupted master. There was a bright flash of light, and Sephiroth was thrown across the room.

Zack fell to his feet, staggered, then sprinted for the giant, pulsing crystal in the center of the room. He ignored the shaft of the Masamune still impaling him. If he couldn't kill Sephiroth, then he would ensure that he'd never be able to follow through with his plan.

Zack reached the crystal and swung with all his might. His blade shone with the energy he'd pumped into it.

_Aerith, Cloud, Angeal…my dreams…_

"I give them all to you!"

The crystal shattered, releasing the vast amounts of energy that had been stored inside.

Everything went white.

And then there was nothing.

* * *

_to be continued…_


	3. Wings of Light and Dark

**Author's Note:** This chapter should finish setting us up for the introduction to the Star Wars universe, which should happen next chapter! It would have happened this chapter, except one of the scenes turned out to be much longer than I had expected, and I figured I'd end with that. Thanks to LuckyLadybug for previewing things for me! Hope you all enjoy!

**EDIT: **Apologies if you get an email about this chapter again - I'm replacing the scene dividers that FanFiction(dot)Net so unkindly deleted for me.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

**Wings of Light and Dark Spread Afar…**

* * *

It was dark. Zack drifted in limbo, feeling like he was at the bottom of a great, black sea.

He remembered…falling. He had fallen forever, thrust across eternity, drowning in a twisted rainbow of blues and greens and silvers.

The Lifestream had spiraled and wrapped around him, binding him, trapping his limbs, his spirit, until he couldn't move, couldn't see for the green filling his vision. He'd been felt the familiar warmth of the Planet rapidly grow cold, distant, as he'd been propelled away.

He thought he imagined a faint voice, startled and horrified, calling out his name.

"_Zack!_"

Aerith's voice.

And then he couldn't hear, couldn't feel, her, or Angeal, or anyone else. His heart had cried out in desperate yearning, reaching out for their familiar and comforting presence. They'd _always_ been there, in life or death, he always knew, could always feel… But now they were _gone_. He could only feel a cold, hard void where everyone had once been. His spirit cracked. Gaia, was this what it felt like to be truly _alone_?

Zack didn't want to be alone. It was what he feared most of all. And here he was, plummeting through this abyss of terrible isolation. Lost and frightened, he wailed, a small child that the entire universe had abandoned.

His soul had finally succumbed to darkness, frozen by the vast expanse of nothingness. He'd ceased to be aware of anything. If souls could die, this was surely what it felt like.

But, after an eternity, his frozen spirit began to stir.

The darkness was the only thing he was aware of, for a while. Was he still falling? It didn't feel quite as frigid as it had before, which was a surprise. He'd forgotten what it was like to not be cold; he didn't think he'd feel the warmth of anything – a kind touch, a cheerful fire, friendship – ever again.

After a while, he became aware of a sharp pain in his heart. What was that? Even as he noticed, it started to fade, becoming a dull throb. But now, a strange burning sensation was filling him. It slowly grew. He began to claw at the invisible walls of his dark prison, struggling to climb out, struggling for something to diminish the pain, something, _anything_…

_Help! Aerith, Angeal, Seph… anyone!_

Suddenly he gasped, oxygen flooding into lungs that had forgotten how to breathe. He took several desperate breaths, soothing the fire that had been consuming his body.

_His body…_

He groaned, fingers curling clumsily to clutch at the hard surface beneath him. He could feel everything so keenly. The surface felt like…stone. It was cold, rigid, small pebbles digging into overly sensitive skin. He could _feel_, each and every one of them, each small imperfection and crack in the ground under his fingers. The air rushing into and out of his lungs and settling over his back was cold and crisp. It smelled of water and minerals and ozone, and of something else, strong and acrid. His clothes, as he shifted, were rough and uncomfortable against his skin. The spikes of his dark hair tickled his neck more acutely than they ever had before.

He was able to feel in a way that had been lost to him upon entering the Lifestream. He'd forgotten what it was like to physically touch something…

To be _alive_.

He was alive? How was that possible? Had he been brought back somehow? He recalled the battle in the Forgotten City, now seeming like a distant memory. Had Sephiroth done something? Or…had it been Zack himself who brought this about, by destroying that strange crystal?

Something thudded in his ears, strong and rhythmic. The Planet? No…his own heartbeat. Gradually, he became aware of a horrible weakness and stiffness, and groaned again, feeling the vibrations of the sound in his vocal chords. Slowly, after a moment of trying to remember how, he opened his eyes.

To eyes that had forgotten how to see, it was very dark, everything blurred. He lay upon his stomach, right cheek pressed against the ground. The hand in front of his eyes was a misshapen lump – he could barely distinguish it from the surrounding rock by its pale color. Beyond that, he saw dim, white blurs, strange oblong shapes, both jutting from the ground and suspended in midair, some unknown distance before him. He frowned in his mind, his face not having figured out how to move yet. Where they…ghosts? Now that he lived, was he able to see the shapes of the spirits that haunted the Forgotten City?

He lay there for a short while, puzzling over it, before he decided he should probably try to move. He directed his thoughts at his limbs, trying to get some response. But nothing seemed to be happening. Annoyed, he focused on just one arm, willing the muscles to contract. He'd been able to move his fingers before!

It didn't move, either. He emitted a groan of frustration. Was this what it had been like for Cloud, recovering from Mako poisoning? It was maddening! And that infuriating tickle on the back of his neck from his hair was conspiring to drive him insane.

There! At the impulse to reach back and scratch, his arm jerked. Ohhh, so that was how it was done. He just had to focus on what he wanted to do, and not on the limbs directly. He was getting all confused when he'd done that, trying to get individual muscles to do something; he really only needed to give them direction and they'd take care of themselves!

For the first time, lips quirked up in a small grin, and he jerkily pulled his arms inward in preparation to lever himself up.

But suddenly, a dark shape flashed across his vision, and something crushed him back into the ground. Pure agony, as he'd never been able to feel in the Lifestream, speared through his left shoulder. Flesh tore, muscles shredded, bone cracked, and liquid fire raced along his veins. He screamed, the sound raw and broken.

He was dragged along the ground, even as he scrabbled for some purchase, every nerve screaming at him to get away from the _pain_, do anything to make it _go away_! His hand struck a familiar object; desperately he reached for the Buster Sword's hilt, but it was too late and he cried as it slipped out of his grasp.

Just when he thought that the pain couldn't get any worse, he was lifted off the ground, the massive set of claws clenching shut, driving a talon into his chest. His weight caused the agony to increase tenfold. Then he was slammed against the jagged rock wall and pinned in place. His head struck the surface and for a moment, all he saw were stars.

_Gaia…h-help…_ The pain tried to drive all breath from his lungs; he had to remember to keep breathing. His chest heaved with the effort, small pained noises coming from each ragged breath.

When the stars cleared from his vision, he saw that he was staring toward the ground, limp against the wall in the grip of those terrible claws. He couldn't move his limbs with the fire overloading his nerves; everything was weak, nothing responding to his feeble commands. Slowly he raised his head, wincing at the effort. _What…what is it?_ His vision swam at the movement, but finally he was able to make out the black claws that were driven through his chest and shoulder. He followed them to a large, heavily muscled limb that connected to a massive beast… But in place of the gaping maw of teeth he expected, he saw _Jenova_.

"Jeno…va…" He filled the name with as much hatred has he could muster. She was the cause of _everything_ that had gone wrong! And now she was going to kill him for what he'd done to Sephiroth. …But…where was Sephiroth? His eyes scanned the cavern behind her, but he couldn't see anything – they had yet to fully adjust.

Jenova leaned in close. He could feel her breath on his skin and shivered. Despite her monstrous form, her face was oddly captivating, holding an alien beauty. Beyond the horns that mimicked Sephiroth's long bangs, her ebony skin was smooth, flawless, the slight hint of reptilian scales patterning her high cheekbones. Large eyes the dark red of smoldering coals peered intently at him. As he gazed into them, he found an unfathomable darkness opening before him. They reflected the universe itself, a yawning abyss holding the tiniest pinpricks of light – the light of countless souls consumed on her journey across the stars.

She reached up and, ever so gently, caressed his cheek. He shuddered in revulsion. "_My child…_" The voice was a whisper, a soft sound that seemed to caress his mind as much as the physical touch had his face. "_What have they done to you?_" He heard, _felt_, her sadness.

"W-what…?" It was a struggle for him to speak. Agony from the talons holding him in their stony grip pulsed through him.

She stroked her thumb along his skin. In spite of himself, he found himself leaning into the gentle touch, desperate for the comfort, the momentary relief from the agony it provided. His eyes were locked onto hers. "_They've hurt you, my child. They're trying to take you away from me._"

"T-they…?" _Who?_ Zack was confused. What was she talking about? Who was going to take him away!

"_Shhh… Mother's here now. I will make all the pain, everything, go away._"

A warm feeling of comfort washed over him, soothing his troubled spirit, numbing his pain, his thoughts. He wanted nothing more than to relax in the safety of her arms, to have all the pain of the world, of his burning memories, kept at bay. It was all that he needed.

He slumped in her grip, tense muscles relaxing, even as the claw tightened. He only distantly felt the sharp pain. Jenova reached up with her other hand as his head bowed, framing his face. She kissed his forehead. Even the burning brush of her lips didn't reach him.

"…Mother…"

* * *

In the long darkness through which Zack had plummeted, something else…_someone_ else…had fallen with him. But instead of being consumed by the cold, it was being devoured by flames of its own making.

Sephiroth…the _real_ Sephiroth, the memories brutally ripped out and left to drift in the Lifestream, still existed.

He hadn't failed when Zack had thrust his energy into the heart of the demon wearing his face, not entirely… As he'd once held back Holy in an attempt to ensure that Meteor would not be interrupted, so too had the demon held _him_ back, the light of his existence imprisoned in a small corner of its heart.

But it had taken nearly the entirety of the demon's concentration and energy, for it had been less than whole, less than _Sephiroth_, even broken as he was. At Masamune's destruction, some of the shackles of the demon's control had snapped, the blade stealing them away; at the crystal's explosion, his concentration had momentarily shattered, and that had given Sephiroth the chance he needed.

_Remember me. _The memories had all clamored the phrase, all at the same instant. And all at once, they assaulted him, each demanding the demon's attention.

_ "My son…Sephiroth…" His real mother, warm brown eyes and a voice so full of love and sadness._

_"That, Sephiroth, is called a puppy." Wide, astonished green eyes looked up at the amused voice of the only man he'd ever thought of as a father, even as small hands buried themselves into the soft, brown fur of the bundle in his arms._

_ "Angeal! Angeal, give that back, you – Oof!" The young brunet collided with his broad-shouldered companion, sending them sprawling into a silver-haired boy coming from the opposite direction. "…Look at that, Angeal, I believe you squashed someone." A rough shoulder shoved him off, and a strong hand pulled the poor victim to his feet. "Sorry about that. My name's Angeal, and this is Genesis. Who are you?" A long pause as a pair of guarded eyes gazed at the earnest face. "…Sephiroth."_

_Remember me._

_ "Sephiroth. Don't shut them out, those feelings." The three men gazed sadly at the stone marker, accenting the freshly turned earth. The gruff man turned to the one with stony green eyes. "They're the ones that tell you to remember, to never forget all the good." A pair of shoulders stiffened. "…I…I just don't want…" The voice was solemn, quiet, unable to express his turbulent thoughts. A second, red-cloaked man clapped a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry. Neither of us has any intention of going anywhere."_

_ "It's the Demon! _Sephiroth!_" Battle raged around the man, black coat flapping in the wind, long, silver hair streaming out behind him. He was calm, determined, intimidating, ruthless. Death followed his flashing blade, and screams stained the sky red._

_ "They aren't even trying, Genesis. Look at them, how will they ever be expected to survive battle like this? Uniforms poorly maintained, shoddy equipment, inadequate training…" The two stalked among the line of SOLDIERs. His companion sighed, flustered. "Heck, I don't know, Sephiroth. Why don't you _do_ something about it, if you care that much?" A thoughtful pause. "…Maybe I will."_

_ Remember me._

_ "…Genesis tells me you've gotten yourself a new…puppy." There was a bark of laugher at the slight confusion in the voice. "You mean Zack? He's like a puppy, alright…energetic, bouncy, loud, uncontrollable… He needs focus." They had walked out to the practice fields. "There he is, Sephiroth." An arm pointed the boy out, just as he snatched a ball out of the air… right before he was tackled to the ground by several other boys. "…I thought you left them to practice sword techniques." They watched as the spiky-haired boy wriggled out from underneath the pile, clutching the ball, and made a beeline for their makeshift goal, laughing all the way. The dark-haired man groaned, facepalming. "…I did." His friend smirked. "Zack the puppy, indeed."_

_ Remember me. _The memories came faster now.

_ …Genesis…Angeal… It's something I don't want to believe.  
__Then _don't_ believe it!  
…__I'll do that._

_What are you going to do?  
__Fail to kill him.  
…__Really?  
__Yes, really.  
__You're seriously the best!_

…_We'll see each other soon.  
__I'll hold you to it!_

_Sephiroth…I trusted you!_

Remember me!

_Sephiroth!_

Sephiroth's spirit was brought to its knees, utterly overwhelmed by the memories surging through him, becoming part of him. His thoughts fled as he remembered.

He _remembered_.

_I…am Sephiroth._ For a long time he stared at nothing, as the memories eventually slowed to a trickle and then stopped. He was left gazing at the fragments of the memories of the demon he'd just recently been, fragments that his own memories had shattered. Bewildered, he picked up one of the dark pieces, turning it over in his hands.

"This…was me? How is that possible?" He couldn't fathom now, the person he'd become. He stood, throwing it down in disgust, then lifted his gaze, searching for answers to the thousands of questions racing through his mind. "What…_what have I done?_"

He gazed back onto the memories of the atrocities he committed. He felt lightheaded. Could this be real? Jenova…Nibelheim…Meteor…the Reunion… He shut his eyes, feeling sick. "Jenova…" The word was uttered like a curse.

_Not Jenova…Sephiroth._

His eyes flew open, just as the dark memory fragments grew, joining together and reaching up to wrap around his arms, tangle his legs. The darkness spread around him, seeking to pull him under once again.

"No!" He struggled against it. "I will _not_…!"

_I am you… I am Sephiroth!_

He tried to fight it, to resist, but the clutches of the darkness were too strong, and he was losing. If only he had a weapon!

Suddenly, he felt something within his grip, and he watched, amazed, as the Masamune appeared, shining as if made from light itself. With renewed determination, he took the blade and slashed it through the tendrils binding him. They broke, and retreated, unable to stand against it. Quickly, they vanished, but he could still feel their presence.

He searched the area, frustrated. Where had they gone? He could almost imagine a dark laughter echoing faintly around him…and it was unnerving, because it was his own.

"Take my strength, Sephiroth."

He whirled toward the unexpected voice. A man stood there, broad-shouldered, well muscled, gazing at him with clear, honest eyes.

"…Angeal."

"You aren't complete yet, you know." His rugged features looked amused. "That Sephiroth…" He jerked his head, indicating the dark presence somewhere out there. "He can be rather troublesome, wouldn't you say?"

Sephiroth stared at him, then bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement, pain flashing through his eyes. "…Indeed, he can be."

Angeal walked toward him, setting a rough hand on his shoulder, and smirked. "Don't let him get to you." Then he slowly faded, and Sephiroth felt a warmth flood him, bringing strength to his limbs.

"Angeal…thank you." _For everything._

For a while, Sephiroth pondered, remembering his old friend. _I never told you how much I appreciated what you did for us. You did everything you could to hold us together, even though we were…breaking. …I am sorry I could never see to do more._

"_Ripples form on the water's surface. The wandering soul knows no rest._"

Sephiroth started, feeling a presence behind him. He turned his head to glance over a shoulder. "Genesis?"

They stood back-to-back; he could sense the man's smirk. "_Even if the morrow is barren of promises…_"

"'Nothing shall forestall my return.' I know." Sephiroth bowed his head, content to let Genesis stay where he was. "…Genesis, I…"

"What, Sephiroth? Do you seek to apologize? Was it you who wronged me, or I, you?"

"…I…"

The voice turned bitter. "Don't tell me you regret how things turned out."

"…All I have left are regrets."

"Is that so? Has the Great Sephiroth, _Hero of the Dawn, Healer of Worlds_, finally been brought to his knees? Who is the hero now, hmm?"

"…I told you, I never wanted to be a hero."

"Only the fates decide who we become, Sephiroth. And they are cruel."

Sephiroth gave a short bark of laugher. "Hmph. So we have no control over our destinies? I don't know whether to be reassured by that."

"Believe what you will. In the end, regardless of what we do, destiny is like the wind that sails over the water's surface. It is quiet…but sure."

"Is it now? I grow tired of your poetry, Genesis. In the end, that's all you had; you left the rest of us behind." He still felt bitter toward the man.

"At least I had something in the end, Sephiroth. You had nothing."

Sephiroth stiffened, about to retort…but then his shoulders slumped, realizing that Genesis was right. He could never forgive himself.

"…My friend, forgiveness is the flower that blooms slowly. But it grows, even in the most rugged conditions."

Sephiroth wasn't sure how to respond to that.

Abruptly, Genesis changed the subject. "This false Sephiroth appreciates my poetry even less than you do." He sounded amused. "I hope you're planning to do something about it."

Sephiroth grunted. "If only there were enough strength in the world to both stand your poetry and get rid of him, I would."

A chuckle. "In that case, I offer thee this silent sacrifice." The figure raised his head and leaned back slightly, bringing him into contact with the General. As Sephiroth watched from the corner of his eye, Genesis faded, imparting his energy.

Sephiroth sighed. _Genesis. I wish I had been able to do more for you. But… Well, who knows._

He was about to move forward to search out his darker half, when suddenly, there was another figure standing in front of him. It faced away, head bowed, familiar black hair spiking up in all directions.

He hesitated, then reached a hand toward the figure's back. "…Zack…"

"Your strength… There's still part of it missing, isn't there?"

"Zack…I'm…"

The figure shook his head. "Don't apologize to me, Seph." He turned, bringing sad eyes to bear on the General. "I'm just a part of you. I'm not the one who needs it."

Sephiroth closed his eyes in anguish. There was so much between them. "Zack, what can I…?"

"Just…don't forget me, okay?"

He opened his eyes to gaze into the ones before him, violet eyes that held such a depth of pain and sorrow, but still managed to shine with hope.

"…I won't. I promise."

Then Zack grinned, and suddenly his expression was so full of faith and trust… Sephiroth was amazed that it was all directed at him. He fought the urge to see if there was someone else around who Zack must surely be looking at.

Suddenly Zack dashed forward, throwing his arms around his friend to hug him tightly. Before he vanished, sending energy surging into him, Sephiroth thought he heard him say one last thing:

"Take heart, Seph, because this isn't gonna be easy. For either of us."

He was left wondering what exactly Zack had been referring to.

Angeal, Genesis, Zack… Their appearances all reminded him of just how much he'd lost, how much he had to atone for. But they had all been reassuring, in their own way. He'd found himself at last, he knew who he was, when before he'd been drifting in a sea of incomprehensible madness.

Yet, even now, he felt that dark sea lapping at his consciousness, seeking to erode his strength, subvert his thoughts.

He needed to deal with it.

Reaching out with his will, he drew upon that darkness, shuddering at the contact, and forced it to come before him, molding it into a shape he could face:

Himself.

The image appeared before him with the hint of an arrogant smirk upon its face. It was like him in every respect, except that it was a soul bent on manipulation and destruction, heedless of the cares of the world around it. It was selfish, cruel, and unforgiving. It was everything Sephiroth had feared he would someday become. And he had.

Sephiroth staggered, the mental contact with his darker half weakening him.

There was a dark chuckle, and then the demon spoke with his own voice. "You seek to destroy me? How amusing."

Sephiroth grunted and readied the Masamune. He had nothing to say to this abomination.

The demon smirked, beginning to circle him. "There is nothing you can do to get rid of me. I am you. I am all your fears, your insecurities, your anger, your suffering. I am the truth of your existence, your very purpose."

Sephiroth narrowed his eyes. "You lie."

The other shook his head in amusement. "No. _You_ are the lie. I…" He spread his arms. "Am the reality."

A growl. "How I could have been so blind as to become you, I will never know."

"You are incapable of understanding, of course. You are the weakness that bowed to my truth. You are the pathetic existence that I once was. I wouldn't expect you, an empty _shell of memories_, to understand."

Sephiroth stiffened. The other was trying to make him doubt, to question his own existence. He couldn't let that happen! Gripping the Masamune, he dashed forward, swinging it in a swift, downward cut. "I am _Sephiroth_!"

Not unexpectedly, a long blade appeared in his opponent's hand to block the attack. The metal was black. "No. You are the useless memories Sephiroth discarded. The memories _I_ discarded."

They exchanged a few blows.

"You are everything Sephiroth _does not need_. You are his weakness. His liability." The other smirked.

Sephiroth shoved him backwards, unleashing a series of rapid strikes. It couldn't be true! He _was_ Sephiroth. …Wasn't he? How would he know for sure?

"I can remove you as easily as I discarded you before. Without me, you are _nothing_, wretched fragments drifting uselessly in the Lifestream. But without you, I am everything."

"No." Sephiroth grunted as the other attacked in return. "You're just a pawn of Jenova."

"Jenova?" He laughed. "She is merely the puppet dancing on the strings of my will." And with that, he flourished his blade, taking Sephiroth by surprise, and impaled him straight through the shoulder.

Sephiroth gasped and fell to his knees. "_No_…" Had all his efforts been for naught? All of Zack's incredible efforts in bringing him back from the brink of extinction a waste? It couldn't end like this! He gripped the blade, trying to force it back.

The other slid in close. "You were always nothing," he whispered. Then he withdrew. He gave the blade a savage twist, causing Sephiroth to cry out as additional pain exploded in his shoulder. Finally, he yanked the blade back. Sephiroth slumped forward, clutching at his injury.

The demon turned away, not caring to spare a backwards glance. "You're still as useless to me as before. At least when I cast you out this time, there will be no Zack Fair to pick you up and piece you back together." He chuckled. "That boy was always a fool."

Sephiroth's head jerked up. "What do you mean?" he demanded. "Where is Zack?"

There was a dark smirk in the other's tone. "I don't think I'll tell you."

Sephiroth growled in rage, and jerked himself to his feet. But he staggered. He was so weak!

Suddenly, he heard a tsking noise.

"He never listens to us!" A voice, both frustrated and amused. _Genesis._

"Hmph. He always did like to do everything himself." Deeper, more gruff. _Angeal._

"And here he kept saying he never wanted to be the hero."

"I think he's just showing off for you, Genesis."

"Well, he's not doing a very good job of it, is he?"

"Jeez, you guys, give him a break! Do you have any idea how hard it is to fight a copy of yourself?" Bright, cheerful. _Zack._

"…Zack, your failure to defeat an old simulation of yourself was not impressive."

"…That's not the point! Genesis copies are bad enough, but can you imagine _Sephiroth_ copies?"

"…My copies were inferior creations."

"That's…that's not the _point_! Fine, you guys can sit there like the old men you are, but _I'm_ helping out my pal."

"…He just called us old. Angeal, discipline your puppy."

"…To be fair, Genesis, the degradation didn't help our appearances any."

"You…you're taking his side! I don't believe you."

"Hey, move over!" A warm, unexpected feeling spread over Sephiroth's sword hand, and he glanced to the side to see a faint image of Zack standing there with his hand placed over Sephiroth's own. His friend grinned. "Hey, Seph! Let's defeat last month's data together."

"Last month's data? That's an understatement if I ever heard one." A larger hand fell over Zack's, and Sephiroth looked up to see Angeal's confident expression.

There was a dramatic sigh. "No sacrifices this time, I suppose." A red-gloved hand was placed atop Angeal's. Genesis did not turn to meet Sephiroth's gaze, but the General noticed the beginnings of an amused smirk crossing his lips.

Slowly, Sephiroth nodded. "Together."

The three faded, but he could still sense them, standing there beside him. He straightened. All at once, he felt rejuvenated, his determination returning. He reached out a hand to the dark apparition before him.

"_Stop_," he commanded, bending his will over the other.

The demon was halted in his tracks. "…What is this?" He struggled to move, but failed. "Impossible…"

"This is _my_ mind. I, and I alone control it. You have no more power here."

He strode forward, and lashed out with the Masamune. He felt Genesis beside him.

_My soul, corrupted by vengeance…_

The demon attempted to summon a reserve of darkness to swamp his attacker.

_Hath endured torment, to find the end of the journey…_

Angeal was there, as Sephiroth banished the darkness with another slash from his gleaming blade.

_In my own salvation…_

Zack guided his final attack, straight and true, through the heart of the monster.

_And your eternal slumber._

For a moment, Sephiroth gazed into the shocked eyes of his dark counterpart. Then the Dark Sephiroth dissipated, fading into the back of his consciousness. The spectre was diminished, weakened almost to nothing.

"…He's still there, you know," Angeal commented.

"…I know." He was a part of Sephiroth, after all. He could never be truly eradicated, not without Sephiroth in turn losing a part of himself. But he would never again hold sway over Sephiroth's mind.

In a moment, Sephiroth had constructed an iron barrier against the demon, ensuring it would never come forth again.

"…Stay where you belong. In my memories." He bowed his head, recognizing that Cloud Strife had once said the same thing to him. Perhaps this time, it really would come to pass.

"Wow. It's finally over! Imagine that." Sephiroth turned to view the transparent form of Zack, as his friend scratched his head. "Where are the fireworks?"

Sephiroth grunted. "This is hardly a case for celebration."

"Isn't it? You regain your memories and your sanity, and big, bad Sephiroth bites the dust… Sounds like party time to me!"

Sephiroth turned away. If only he did feel that way. But all he felt was emptiness. There was no feeling of joy, no sense of accomplishment, not really. He was unsatisfied. There was too much he had to answer for, and, much as he wished it were otherwise, everything that the demon had done had been done under his watch. He bore all the responsibility, for it was _he_ who had gone mad, who had fallen for Jenova's lies. The demon had been right about one thing…he _was_ Sephiroth.

He didn't know how he could live with himself, to have so deeply betrayed the ones he cared for most. _Zack…_ Why he had chosen to push them away was a mystery to him. He replayed the memories in his mind as if he was someone else watching, not understanding how he could have committed such atrocities. _How? Why? Oh, Gaia…forgive me._

"…Hey…" He started as a comforting hand was laid on his shoulder. "I know it's all…impossible, right now. But it wasn't all your fault."

"Wasn't it? Who freed Jenova, if not me? Who burned Nibelheim to the ground, if not me? Who tried to kill _you_, if not me?"

"That wasn't you. I _know_ you, Seph, I'm the one who picked up all your memories, remember? That _wasn't you_."

Sephiroth whirled on him. "Well then, tell me who it was, Zack," he demanded. "When, and correct me if I'm wrong, _I still had all my memories when it all started_."

Zack took a step back, a bit hurt at Sephiroth's tone. "…That was…" He hesitated, at a bit of a loss. Who had it really been? "It was…it was Jenova…"

"Not good enough." Sephiroth turned away again.

Zack gave a heartfelt sigh. "…Then I just don't know if I can help you," he said, sadly. "Like I said, I'm just a part of you, Seph. I don't know anything more than you do." Helplessly, he shrugged.

"…Then what am I supposed to do now?" Sephiroth gazed around him. Though he hated to admit it, he was lost.

"Well…you can't do anything here, that's for sure. Guess you just gotta wake up and face whatever's next!"

"…Wake up? Am I not in the Lifestream…?"

Zack smirked. "'Fraid not. Seem you've been given a second chance! Man, some people have all the luck."

As Sephiroth turned to watch, Zack began to fade away. "Zack…"

"See ya later, pal! I'll tell Angeal and Genesis you said goodbye!"

Zack vanished, and all the world faded to black.

* * *

_to be continued…_


	4. Cracked a Brick When You Hit the Wall

**Author's Note:** Okay, so remember how I said that the whole Star Wars intro would happen this chapter? Yeah... It kinda didn't. You can blame Zack for that! But it will happen next time, I'm sure of it! Anyway, this chapter's title is directly from a line in the song Unstoppable by Rascal Flatts, which reminded me very strongly of this chapter, particularly Zack, when I heard it. I highly recommend the song. :)

**EDIT: **Still replacing scene dividers!

* * *

**Chapter Three**

**Cracked a Brick When You Hit the Wall**

* * *

Like Zack, the first thing that Sephiroth was aware of was darkness. And wherever he was, it was cold. He waited there for a time before he realized that he could hear… There was a quiet shuffling sound, and very distantly, the sound of dripping water.

_ Drip…_

_ Drip drip…_

_ Drip drip…_

_Drip…_

He focused on these sounds, gradually becoming aware of a strong beat matching itself to the tempo of the dripping water. His heartbeat.

_I'm alive._ Amazement, wonder, gratitude.

Immediately, he took a deep breath, then another…his first real breaths since he'd fallen into madness. He refused to count any of the times he'd returned to life between then and now – he considered himself, the_ real_ Sephiroth, dead during those years.

The next sense he regained was his sense of touch. He realized that he was slumped against a wall…a very uncomfortable, rocky wall. He tried to shift to a better position, but his muscles refused to comply.

_Be patient._

So he let his thoughts wander. What was expected of him now? Was there even a point to being alive, and, if so, what was it? He very much doubted that he deserved a second chance of any sort. He would have been content to stay dead and drift in the Lifestream. He was whole again, free of his insanity… There wasn't anything else he wanted.

And what of Zack? What had the demon meant when he said there was no more Zack Fair to piece him together? Had he done something to him that Sephiroth could not remember? But he possessed all the demon's memories, much as he wished he did not, and, for the life of him, he couldn't remember anything that the demon might have been referring to.

Maybe the demon had just been toying with him. That was the most likely explanation. It was what Sephiroth supposed he would have done himself in that position to make a hated enemy doubt and gain a strategic advantage. …And, technically, it _had_ been Sephiroth doing that. But he didn't like to think about it.

…Was Zack alive, as he was? Or was he still in the Lifestream? If it was the latter, then there was no reason for Sephiroth to be alive. There was nothing on the Planet for him… ShinRa was all but dead, and even if it wasn't, Sephiroth had no intention of returning to that hated organization. Angeal was dead. Genesis… He didn't recall Genesis ever joining the Lifestream, so he must still be alive somewhere.

Well, there was always Cloud Strife. But despite his former self's obsession with the "ex-SOLDIER," Sephiroth had only known him as Zack's friend. He really had no reason to seek him out, other than, perhaps, to apologize. Cloud deserved that more than anyone, save Zack, but would visiting him really be the right decision? He'd be lucky if he didn't get a blade, or several, impaled right through him.

No, visiting an angry Cloud Strife was out of the question. In Zack's sarcastic words, that would _totally_ go over well. Sephiroth should do them both a favor and leave him in peace.

_ Drip drip…_

_ Drip…_

_ Drip drip…_

Sephiroth's breathing had now matched itself to the sound of the water. It was oddly soothing. If he wasn't careful, he might end up being lulled to sleep right here. But he needed to find out where he was, what was going on.

It was time to open his eyes.

He expected to have some trouble, but they opened fluidly. Perhaps his previous "visits" to the Planet had kept him in shape, so to speak. Things were blurry at first, but they quickly sharpened well enough for him to make out his immediate surroundings. It appeared that he was in a stone cavern. Pale, white crystals dotted the walls and floors.

_So… It's the cavern beneath the City of the Ancients._ But…weren't those crystals green in color, not white?

As he slowly cast his gaze about, he noticed the large crystal in the center of the room was indeed green, but it was pale rather than the brilliant emerald color that he remembered. And as his vision cleared further, he realized that it wasn't a single large crystal at all, but rather a large cluster of smaller ones. To add to the disparity, many of the crystals around the perimeter of the room were fractured and black, no longer any light shining from within.

Sephiroth stared, puzzled. What was going on? He had an excellent memory, and he distinctly remembered things being different.

Suddenly, he was distracted from his thoughts by something wet and slick on the floor some distance before him, glimpsed out of the corner of his eye. Water? He couldn't tell – there wasn't enough light from the dim crystals to really make out the color from here. He focused on it, sharpening his gaze.

It looked like something had smeared it across the room… With growing apprehension, he followed the trail with his eyes, coming to a growing puddle of the stuff pooling around the opposite wall, and lifting his gaze to see…

_ Drip drip…_

_ Drip…_

_Drip drip dripdrip…_

Zack Fair hanging limply against the wall, pinned there by the wretched form of Jenova. The liquid dripped steadily from his left boot.

Sephiroth's blood ran cold. _Zack…_

Jenova's bestial foreleg had driven its claws mercilessly through Zack's shoulder and chest. It was the only thing holding him off the ground. The humanoid part of her framed Zack's face in her hands; she had bowed her forehead to his, and seemed to be whispering things to him. Even as Sephiroth watched in frozen horror, Jenova paused, craning her neck to return his gaze.

"_My son…you're finally awake._" The voice echoed in his mind. He realized he could feel her presence crawling through his thoughts.

"Jenova…" he whispered.

"_Come…_" Her centaur-like form pivoted at her human waist, while her bestial half remained still. She reached a hand toward him. "_We have much to do, and this one…_" Sephiroth knew she meant Zack. "_Will aid us._"

A sudden rage burned through Sephiroth's veins, giving him power and sending him surging to his feet. "Leave him alone!" he roared. Spying the nearest available weapon, he dashed forward, seizing Zack's trusted blade, and charged the alien fiend.

Quickly, knowing full well what Sephiroth was capable of, Jenova acted to delay his advance. Pivoting, she swung away from the wall and threw Zack at him, as if he were just a rag doll, then sprung away.

Taken by surprise, Sephiroth scrambled to catch his friend before he could be further hurt. He fell back under Zack's momentum, but quickly recovered. Carefully, he lowered Zack to the ground, regretting that he couldn't tend to his friend right then, and locked his gaze on Jenova. A soft groan from the limp form reassured him that at least Zack was still alive.

Sephiroth straightened, glaring at Jenova. "Jenova. This is your Judgment Day." His voice was cold, filled with loathing for this creature who'd deceived and manipulated him.

Jenova gazed at him impassively. "_My son… Don't let those lies cloud your mind. They've tried to twist your thoughts, turn you against me…your mother…_"

He narrowed his eyes. "You were _never_ my mother."

As she gazed at him, Sephiroth felt the tendrils in his mind thicken, curling around and trying to subvert his reality. He grunted. "Not this time." Hefting the Buster Sword, he leapt toward her, swinging the unfamiliar blade.

She dodged to the side, lashing out toward his unprotected flank with the razor sharp spines on her tail. Sephiroth was ready, however, and he pivoted back, bringing the blade with him to slice clean through the ends of the tail. Jenova screamed in shock and rage. She crouched, then leapt for him, reaching out to rend with her claws.

He ducked and rolled under, coming up to slash at her hind leg. She kicked out at him, sending him stumbling back, then pivoted, rearing up to drive her talons into him with her full weight. He rolled out of the way as the ground shook.

Jumping up, he quickly spun, spearing the blade toward her side…only to have a wing unexpectedly sweep up, catching the weapon and flinging it clean out of his hands. Immediately, she ducked down, seizing his coat with her human fists, and whirled, using the full force of both her human and bestial halves to send him flying across the room.

Sephiroth tucked in as he hit, easily rolling back to his feet. But now, almost the entire length of the room separated him from the sword, with Jenova in between. He cast about for some other weapon.

_There._ A familiar, beloved hilt. He dove for the Masamune, even as Jenova bounded swiftly for him with fluid, catlike grace. Grasping the weapon, he spun as she came upon him, fully expecting the length of the blade to slice through her torso… But there was something wrong – the sword was too light, the balance off – and for the first time since Sephiroth could remember, he completely _missed_. His momentum kept him turning past the resistance he expected, exposing his back to Jenova, which she gladly took advantage of.

A savage swipe of her massive paw threw Sephiroth into the ground, raking red-hot pain across his back. He rolled as she was about to ground him into the floor, catching the paw with the shortened blade of his weapon. She shrieked and leapt back, nursing the injury.

Sephiroth stood, glaring at her. Out of the corner of his eye, he examined his weapon, distraught at the broken blade. It must've happened during the last battle with Zack, though he had trouble remembering it clearly. There was now only roughly three feet of the blade remaining.

Jenova smirked. Then she offered a hand to him, once again.

"_Return to my side, child, and I will forgive your transgressions._"

Sephiroth narrowed his eyes. "Give it up. You're through."

Then he dashed forward and they clashed once again. The battle took them back and forth across the room, Jenova bounding agilely to gain the advantage, and Sephiroth swiftly moving to press her from all directions. Crystals shattered as they came too close and the duelists smashed into them.

It seemed to last a small eternity, though was, in reality, only a few, tense minutes. With Jenova constantly pressing on his mind, trying to weave her way into his thoughts and nudging with her will, Sephiroth decided to try the same thing. After all, he'd done it before.

He came down upon her mind like an iron sledgehammer, halting her in her tracks. It wasn't the gradual force that he'd used in years past, but swift, relentless, and completely unexpected, taking Jenova by surprise. She choked. Her eyes widened, and she tried to fight back.

Sephiroth would have none of it. He kept her pinned there, as she had done to Zack. Then, revealing his one black wing and letting it unfurl, he took to the air. Reaching deep inside to the dark power and Mako that lay within, he raised a hand and spoke:

"Descend, Heartless Angel."

Wisps of darkness gathered around Jenova, then struck, all at once, with black energy. She screamed. A moment later, when the attack was over, she was left staggering, horribly weakened. But Sephiroth was not yet finished.

Gripping his ruined blade, he folded his wing and plummeted toward her. Calling upon the Fire materia he'd recently discovered among the slots in the hilt, he charged up the blade with searing energy. Then he struck. Again. And again. And again.

Never once pausing to allow her to recover, he inflicted multiple deadly blows from every corner. And finally, with one last flourish, he plunged the blade straight through her heart. The Fire materia flared, and Jenova erupted into a column of flame.

This time, her dying screams shook the cavern, causing the crystals to resonate in objection.

Jenova was gone.

And then the mental backlash from her death struck Sephiroth and pummeled his consciousness into oblivion.

* * *

Zack had not been completely unconscious during the battle, despite appearances, but he certainly hadn't been aware of what had been going on, either. He'd been lost in a fog that had clung to his mind, and when he could no longer hear that comforting voice whispering to him, he'd tried to reach out. But it had been in vain, for nothing would move, and the voice seemed to ignore him.

_Mother…_ He'd been left alone again. Would she come back? He didn't want to be alone…

Why was everyone abandoning him?

But with Jenova's death, and a horrendous scream echoing in his subconscious, the fog had instantly evaporated, sending the pain of his injury coming back in full force. He gasped in agony.

_Oh, Gaia…_ It was unbearable.

He forced blurry eyes open, and glanced down at the wound. Though he couldn't see much, it did not look good. Jerkily, he brought his other hand up to put some pressure on it, biting his lip to avoid crying out. Blood seeped through his ruined sweater and past his fingers.

_Gaia…_ There was too much. His entire side was soaked; he was lying in a growing puddle of the precious fluid. As he slowly rolled to his uninjured side to sit up, he saw it smeared across the floor and on the wall. It was everywhere. He could taste the copper on his breath. He stared at it, drawing pained gasps. It was almost luminescent, the gleaming red bathed in the glow of the fire.

Fire? Turning his head to the side, he saw a giant bonfire, consuming a misshapen black lump. The flames crackled, bathing everything in an eerie red glow and casting dancing shadows from every obstacle, radiating heat into the chilly atmosphere of the cavern.

Summoning strength from the Mako in his blood, Zack struggled to his feet with great effort. He slowly approached the pyre, his weakness nearly sending him stumbling back to the ground on two occasions. He stared, wondering what it was. Even as he watched, the dark form shifted and something heavy slid to the side at his feet in a shower of sparks, sending a rush of heat toward his face and him hastily stumbling back. It was the blackened remains of a large wing.

_Jenova?_ He stepped back in disgust. What had happened? Who did this? He supposed he should be grateful, but… As he moved around the side of the bonfire, broken crystal crunching beneath his boots, he suddenly came across another figure slumped on the floor. The figure was starkly illuminated by the flames, silver hair pooling around him turned to coppery blood by the light.

Sephiroth.

_Oh, Gaia!_ Zack's heart leapt into his throat, and he backpedaled. He had to get away, find a weapon, do _something_…! His heels struck something hard and he toppled over, landing heavily with a yelp. The object made a metallic scraping sound as it slid a short distance. _His sword!_ Frantically, he seized the handle with his uninjured arm and surged back to his feet to point the blade at his enemy, adrenaline pumping.

He stared, fully expecting Sephiroth to stand and laugh at his futile efforts, sending the evil sound echoing around them, to say how foolish and pathetic he was, and how Jenova's demise had not affected him in the least. He expected the cold, unyielding grip of Sephiroth's will to crash down upon his mind and smother his personality, stamp out everything except blind, puppet-like obedience.

But Sephiroth did nothing.

Cautiously, Zack circled closer, never taking his eyes off the still form. He came within blade's length of the man. Ever so slowly, he extended the weapon to prod an armored shoulder, immediately leaping back.

Still, Sephiroth did not move.

Zack frowned, the staccato beats of his heart loud in his ears. Was Sephiroth dead?

No… Even as he watched, he saw the strong rise and fall of his chest. He was alive.

Hurriedly, Zack backed away. He needed to escape while he still had the chance. He was in no condition to fight him now, not with his injury sapping his strength. Already, he was starting to feel dizzy from the blood loss.

…But wait. Zack froze in his tracks as a thought occurred to him. Sephiroth was unconscious. What if… What if Zack _could_ end things right here, right now? It would only take a single swipe of his blade, and Sephiroth would be dead.

Zack slowly returned to Sephiroth's side as he thought. He had failed before – the memories hadn't worked. This might be his only chance to stop Sephiroth for good. …But would it really work this time? Both Zack and Sephiroth were clearly alive now, through whatever miracle had occurred. Would killing Sephiroth, sending him back to the Lifestream, do any good?

Jenova was dead, from all appearances. So that must surely have diminished Sephiroth's power. Even if he were still insane, maybe there wasn't much he could do in the Lifestream without her. Zack raised his sword in preparation to bring it down upon his enemy…the enemy he both hated and loved.

But…he hesitated, lowering the blade. It had always been Sephiroth controlling her through his will. That was what had made facing him so heartbreaking – he couldn't just blame Jenova for the things his friend had done. It had always been Sephiroth. So what if sending him back to the Lifestream didn't do anything at all? Maybe Sephiroth was actually weaker in life than in death, with limited, if any, access to the Lifestream.

But that also meant that Sephiroth would be free to walk the Planet once more, which was what he'd wanted, and which Zack had been constantly striving to prevent. Though, maybe, without access to the Lifestream, he would just be a normal man.

_Yeah…a normal man with incredible strength and almost supernatural powers bent on killing every human on the Planet._

Zack scoffed at himself. He'd end up having to kill Sephiroth anyway, just to protect someone else. And if not him, then Cloud would, and he didn't want to inflict that burden on his other friend yet again.

Maybe Aerith would be able to do something from the Lifestream. Heck, maybe Zack should just follow Sephiroth back himself to keep watch. Nodding to himself, Zack hefted the sword once again, forcing his trembling arm to still, this time prepared to follow through with the kill.

He gazed down at the motionless figure, at the peaceful face, for once not twisted with madness. He'd almost forgotten what his friend looked like without the demon peering through those piercing green eyes. Sephiroth lay there, completely oblivious to his impending doom, breathing normally as if simply asleep.

Several seconds passed.

Finally, Zack stabbed the sword down with an agonized cry. The blade missed its mark, embedding its tip into the stone beside the former General's head. He just couldn't do it.

Gaia help him, he just _couldn't do it_!

Yanking the blade out, Zack spun away, angrily wiping at eyes that had suddenly teared up. Let him be forever condemned for his weakness, but he just couldn't bring himself to kill Sephiroth like this, with the man so helpless before him! He'd been his _friend_, for Gaia's sake, so, if only to honor that memory, Sephiroth didn't deserve to end like that.

Even if it could be argued that he really _did_ deserve it.

Zack would just…he would just leave Sephiroth here, that's what he'd do. He would go and get himself fixed up, and maybe, when he felt up to it, he'd come back and deal with Sephiroth then.

_If_ he felt up to it.

Maybe he could just not come back, and Sephiroth would disappear, and Zack would never hear from him ever again.

If only he could be that lucky. But somehow, lucky Zack Fair had died when the ShinRa army caught up to him. Heck, he had probably died way back at Nibelheim. Zack Fair was anything but lucky now.

But right now, he had to worry about himself, and the injury that threatened to make him bleed out. He'd noticed that his breathing was more difficult than it should be, loud and rasping. He coughed, tasting blood at the back of his throat. With shaking hands, he examined the hilt of his weapon. He thought he'd felt…

Materia. _Thank you, Gaia. Or should I say Aerith, Angeal, and Cloud?_ His materia was still embedded in the slots of the hilt, his favorite ones, the ones he'd had equipped during his last few moments: Restore, Barrier, Lightning paired with an All. All mastered, save for Barrier, which he'd normally forgotten to use. And around his upper left arm, the ShinRa-issued Beta armlet, just noticed, held Osmose, Time, and his trusty Hell Blizzaga paired with an Elemental materia.

Relieved, he fingered the pale green of the Restore. Then, gripping the hilt, he poured his energy into it, activating it and eagerly awaiting the cool, soothing rush of the magic that would heal his injury.

Instead, fire blossomed through his chest and back, and he screamed in strangled agony, falling to his knees. The sword clattered to the ground as he clutched at the wound, doubling over.

_W-what!_

He could feel torn muscle and skin starting to knit themselves back together but, _Oh Gaia, it hurts, it hurts so much…_

He must've blacked out for a moment, because when he next opened his eyes, he found himself lying on the floor, shuddering. Hesitantly, fearing what he would see, he craned his neck to examine the wound as best he could, bringing up fingers to lightly prod at it.

The Restore had failed. The wound had partly come together in some areas, but left others still raw and bleeding. His fingers came away, freshly stained with the dark red fluid. He stared in confusion. …_Why?_

Then it hit him, something Angeal had explained ages ago. _Restore knits together most damaged tissue, but regarding bone, it needs to be set before the magic can bind it back together. Otherwise, the chances of it healing improperly are high._

Zack groaned. When Jenova's talons had driven through him, they must've punched through his shoulder blade, or damaged some bone in that area in some way. How could he have been so _foolish_?

_Stupid, stupid, stupid…_

He'd have to do something else to stem the flow of blood, before it was too late. Gritting his teeth against the agony, he forced shaking hands to reach for the knife he kept in his boot, and set about cutting the fabric from his pants leg. Once he had enough, he took two strips and did his best to wrap them tightly around the area. But it was awkward with only one hand, and the position of the wound was such that it wasn't going to successfully cover it all without a lot more fabric that he didn't have. Then he wadded up another other piece and, quickly, before he lost his nerve to the pain, wedged it under the other wrappings to keep them taut and to hopefully stifle the flow of blood.

There. That would have to do for now. He couldn't reach the wound in the back to properly finish dressing it, so he'd have to hope that the strips of fabric he'd layered across would be enough.

A deep breath sent him coughing, and he doubled over a second time as pain wracked his body. When he brought his hand away from his mouth, he saw red flecks spattering the back of it. He grimaced. That couldn't be good. He resolved to breathe more carefully from now on.

And now it was time to get out of this place. He had to leave, find help, if he had any hope of living. And it was entirely up to himself to do it – there was no one else around to rely on if he collapsed here and now, certainly not the silver-haired man slumped in the corner.

Zack grabbed the Buster Sword and, propping it up, used it to carefully pull himself to his feet. He took a breath, gathering his strength, then twirled the sword around to rest on his back. It joined to the magnetic harness with a satisfying _snap_. Gaia, it was good to feel that solid, reassuring weight again. It seemed to impart additional strength to Zack's limbs.

Casting one last look at the still raging pyre and the man lying beside it, Zack was about to turn and leave it all behind.

But something held him back.

…Could he really just leave Sephiroth here? There was nothing preventing him from completely ditching the monster, but something about it felt…_wrong_. Zack shook his head. What the heck did he expect himself to do, carry the man with him? The man was a _demon_! He'd kill Zack just as soon as look at him, and in Zack's condition, there was nothing he could do to prevent it. He'd already done the man a favor in leaving him alive; no sense in pushing his luck.

But…there was still the question of who had killed Jenova. Someone had clearly saved him from her vile clutches and continued to kill her in what looked to be a most satisfying fashion. Had that been Sephiroth?

Impossible! Sephiroth controlled Jenova. She would have been doing exactly what he wanted!

…But what if she hadn't been? _Then she was probably just disobeying and getting in his way, just like last time,_ he thought, bitterly.

If that were the case, then, why would Sephiroth completely kill her? It would seem like such a waste, and if Sephiroth was anything, wasteful he was not. Had he completely lost control over her? Why would she completely turn against him, if they shared the same will?

Well…maybe they hadn't shared the same will.

Maybe…_maybe_ the memories really had worked, after all. Maybe Sephiroth was sane.

And Zack had just nearly killed his best friend.

_No!_ It couldn't be true; how could it be true? Sephiroth tried to destroy Zack's very soul! There was _nothing_ left of the man he once knew.

But what if there was? How could he possibly know for sure?

He couldn't, unless he took Sephiroth with him. But if Sephiroth was still insane, then that was too great a risk, and Zack would have signed his own death warrant.

However, before he realized quite was he was doing, Zack found himself approaching Sephiroth again. He couldn't help it – he just _couldn't_ leave him here, just as he couldn't kill him in cold blood. Zack's face twisted in agony as he realized what he was going to do. He couldn't bear it if Sephiroth betrayed him yet again, but there was no helping it. The tiny part of him that clung to some fragile hope that Sephiroth might still be his friend wasn't going to let him walk away. _…I guess I won't have to bear it long, anyway, if he does decide to stab me in the back._

So, with a silent plea to Gaia to forgive him, and suppressing his own pain, he bent down to help Sephiroth…General, Demon of Wutai, Calamity's Son, brother, mentor, friend, _traitor_…to his feet.

He gritted his teeth. His whole side burned at the effort. Somehow, he managed to sling Sephiroth's left arm across his shoulders, holding tight to his waist with his own right arm. But he still needed more leverage – he needed to anchor Sephiroth's arm somehow, so it wouldn't flop right off again. But there was no way to do that, unless Zack could grab the wrist with his left hand, the hand that, until now, had hung limply, immovable due to the horrendous wound on that side.

He had no other choice. Squeezing his eyes shut against the pain, he forced that arm to move. All his nerves screamed at the effort, but somehow, he was able to reach up and take hold of Sephiroth's wrist. _It's really not so bad,_ he told himself. _It's just like helping Cloud. You've been through worse; it's just like helping Cloud…_

Repeating that mantra to himself, he stood, dragging Sephiroth up with him. He stumbled. The weight pulled back against his left arm, his injury, and he couldn't help a strangled cry of pain. He tightened his other arm around Sephiroth's waist to take off some of the weight, and attempted to move forward.

He quickly discovered that Sephiroth was too dang tall. Whereas Cloud had been shorter and lighter, malnourished from their time in the Mako tanks, Sephiroth was practically all muscle, and the added weight and height didn't help Zack any.

Ugh, and his _hair_. The silver locks had draped in front of him with Sephiroth's bowed head, making it all but impossible for Zack to take a step without stepping on or stumbling over them. Zack let out a rare curse. Why did _everything always_ have to be so difficult! Did the universe enjoy tormenting him?

That was it. Zack lowered the General back to the ground. The hair would have to go. Heck, if it really was the source of all Sephiroth's powers, as he'd often joked in the past, then that would solve his problems when Sephiroth finally did come around, wouldn't it?

Once again, Zack reached for the knife in his boot. He always had wondered what his friend would look like with short hair.

But as he brought the blade up, positioning it to begin the first cut, he hesitated for the third time that day.

Sephiroth had always been proud of his hair. It set him apart from everyone else, its length was something he'd used to rebel against Hojo, who'd always found it annoying. It would be tragic to cut it off, to destroy a part of Sephiroth that had always helped to define him.

Lowering the knife in disgust and berating his own weakness, Zack cast about for something else he could do. Maybe he could tie it up…? Out of the corner of his eyes, he spied the shimmering pink ribbon tied to the Buster's hilt.

Yes! That would do! Zack grinned in amusement as he reached back to free the ribbon. Oh, if only he had a camera! Seph's expression would be priceless once he woke up and realized that, not only had he a ribbon tying up his precious hair, but that the ribbon was a very bright, very girly _pink_.

Zack snickered to himself as he bunched up the hair and awkwardly threaded the ribbon through it with his good hand. He'd tie a very pretty bow, just the way Aerith had worn it…

An electric shock went through him, freezing his hands. _Aerith_…

This was Aerith's ribbon. The one Zack had bought for her.

Sephiroth had killed Aerith. He'd almost made _Zack_ kill Aerith. Even now, the image of Sephiroth descending from the sky, impaling her with his wicked blade, played before his eyes. Her ribbon had come loose, spilling the White Materia into the water. She had slumped forward, only to die in Cloud's arms.

Zack's hands shook. _Sephiroth…_ He didn't deserve to wear Aerith's ribbon, let alone touch it. How could Zack have possibly defiled it by putting it in his hair? The ribbon was a symbol of kindness, love, purity, while Sephiroth was everything corrupt and black.

With an agonized cry, Zack ripped the silk from Sephiroth's hair. What was he _thinking_? He bent over the ribbon, fisting it in his hand while angry tears stung his eyes. He could _never_ forgive Sephiroth. Aerith was _dead_ because of him. He had never come to terms with it, even when they'd both been in the Lifestream. And now he was here and she was still dead. He choked back a sob of grief.

Maybe he should just leave the wretched demon here.

_No._ And Zack's heart ached all the more because of how much he wanted to, but couldn't, because of all the grief the man had personally inflicted upon him, but which he had to now overlook.

_It wasn't fair!_ It just wasn't fair.

Zack stumbled back to give himself some breathing room, having to pause as a rush of dizziness and pain assailed him. Then he furiously wrapped the ribbon back around the hilt of his sword, and struggled to suppress his strangled breathing and shaking shoulders. As he did so, he caught the gleam of another object lying abandoned on the stone floor.

The broken blade and hilt of the Masamune.

Zack stifled the hysterical laughter that threatened to build in his throat. He supposed he'd have to bring that along too. Quickly, and with an utter lack of care for the blade, he snatched it from the ground and set it against Sephiroth's back, where the harness rested beneath the black coat. It clicked into place.

Zack had also spied at least two other pieces of the blade lying among the rocks and crystals. But he just left those. He had no feasible way to carry them. And frankly, he just didn't care.

Let the blade stay broken.

Zack took Sephiroth's hair in his shaking hands, almost cringing away from the touch, not wanting to be this close to the monster, and sloppily bundled it together and stuffed it down the back of his coat. Then he once again pulled Sephiroth to his feet, and stumbled to the tunnel exiting the room. They reached the perimeter, passing white crystals that made way for burnt out black ones.

Once they got out of here, he never wanted to deal with Sephiroth ever again.

With the fire still raging at their backs, the two SOLDIERs left the crystal chamber. Only bloodied footsteps were left to mark their progress.

* * *

_to be continued…_


	5. A Galaxy Far, Far Away

**Author's Note **(and sarcasm warning)**:** Dang it! This stupid site has removed all the scene dividers I previously had. Now it looks like I write like an idiot, mashing everything together. Yes, that is so helpful to me, I can _totally _see why they wanted to implement this change, which even affects my previously posted chapters. And my other fics are probably affected too! This will be quite a chore to fix. I am NOT happy. So, just to let you know, after I post this chapter, you may get a flood of messages with updates (depending on how their system handles notifications), once I go back to take care of what they've broken. Thank you, FanFiction(dot)Net. Thank you _so_ much.

Please let me know if you see anything (in any of my chapters) that appears to be a scene change that's missing a FanFiction(dot)Net-approved, aesthetically-pleasing horizontal dividing line. It's late, and it's possible that I'm missing something.

Anyway... This chapter finally brings us to, you guessed it, the Star Wars galaxy! It was definitely a challenge to begin, since I had to develop the characters I have in mind to help the story progress. As of right now, the SW characters and the planet in this chapter were created specifically for this story. I had to re-familiarize myself with many of the Star Wars concepts, everything from the Force to types of starships, so this may continue to delay future chapters as I try to get things as accurate as possible.

One quick note - the length of time I give between now and when Zack originally joined SOLDIER was calculated as accurately as possible from his age at the time and the number of years that passed between certain significant events. For reference, this story takes place shortly after the events of Dirge of Cerberus.

**EDIT: **Last one!

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**Chapter Four**

**A Galaxy Far, Far Away**

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_A short time ago…_

High above a barren, lonely planet in the Unknown Regions, orbited a heavily modified Corellian corvette. To an external viewer, this corvette would be difficult to see – it was painted a deep black, and so would have easily disappeared into the darkness of space were it not for the red striping that, to some, evoked the image of a bloody spear point stabbing into the unknown. Four large, outboard engines, framing the ship's usual eleven, suggested that the ship was capable of speeds greatly surpassing the standard model.

Upon the dimmed bridge of this starship stood an imposing figure. The man, also dressed in black, and surpassing six feet in height, gazed down upon the planet. His cloak moved gently with the currents of the ship's air circulation system, and the gentle hum of machinery permeated the background.

The man, Yori Xan-Markos, captain of this ship, wore a thoughtful expression. Several days ago, he'd sensed…a disturbance originating on this planet, a gentle swelling of power through the Force. Shortly afterwards, the instruments on his ship had been able to confirm it, so he'd plotted a course that would bring him here as swiftly as possible.

It was fortunate, he mused, that he had already been in the area, else he might have missed the event entirely. He was an explorer, a researcher, or so he fancied, currently searching the Unknown Regions for points of interest. He'd already visited this planet, Dak'tar IV, once, though, due to circumstances outside his control, was unable to stay long. But he had remained long enough to seek out and discover the large, mysterious bed of crystals existing underneath the abandoned temple at the planet's surface.

What the crystals were for, Yori Markos did not know. It was curious how some of them, near the center of the formation, glowed with a faint light, while they grew dim and eventually darkened completely near the perimeter of the cavern. But near those glowing crystals, he had sensed a quiet reverberation in the Force, which had greatly intrigued him, and he had vowed to return to continue their study.

And so he had, upon sensing the unexpected swelling of power across the stars. Even more unexpected was what had occurred just a few minutes previous – the energy had suddenly blossomed in intensity, overwhelming his instruments, before vanishing completely. It had burned like a supernova in the Force, bringing him rushing to the bridge…but there was nothing to be seen upon the planet from this height. And now, though the energy signature was gone, Yori sensed something else…two very bright, very strong signatures in the Force, shining like tiny stars down on the planet – something his ship's sensors were unable to register.

_Jedi?_ He wondered. They had to be very strong Force-users, whatever or whoever they were. But their sudden appearance, when the planet had been utterly devoid of life just minutes before, completely baffled him. Perhaps they'd been able to cloak their existence somehow. In any case, he strongly suspected that their presence was related to the surge in the Force.

Unfortunately, it seemed that he was not the only one to notice the strong power fluctuation.

"My lord, sensors are picking up several ships exiting hyperspace just beyond the planet's gravity well…" reported a voice off to his right. "They look to be Imperials. Two _Strike_-class medium cruisers and one _Imperial_-class Star Destroyer. …They're heading this way."

He swore under his breath. Blasted Imperials, always sticking their noses where they didn't belong. He'd known about their presence in this area for some time – apparently the Remnants had sent a fleet out here to search for resources, or some such thing. He'd always made an effort to steer clear, not yet ready to reveal his presence, and certainly not interested in explaining himself to those narrow-minded, impatient fools.

"Take us behind the moon. I don't want them to know we're here." He pivoted to stride back off the deck. "And ready my shuttle. I intend to find out what's down there before they do."

* * *

Everything burned with a red haze.

It was a haze that dulled his senses, stole his thoughts. It ripped breath from struggling lungs, and turned his legs to lead. It threatened to drop his arms to his side, and drop him to the floor, but, somehow, somewhere, he managed to dredge up the strength to keep going.

At first, the only thing Zack concentrated on was walking. Putting one foot in front of the other seemed like such an easy task, in principle. But the red haze his consciousness swam through, and the sharp pain that pulsed through him with each step, each breath, each heartbeat, made it infinitely more difficult.

He didn't know how long he'd been walking. Every minute stretched for a painful eternity, and he became aware of time only as measured by each rasping breath. He counted those breaths, those steps, because as long as he counted, he knew he was still moving. As long as he counted, he was still _alive_.

Breathe in. _One._

Step, step.

Breathe out. _Two._

Step, step.

In. _One._ Two steps.

Out. _Two._ Two steps.

_One, two. One, two._ In this way, Zack survived from step to step, breath to breath. He couldn't let himself stop, couldn't pause counting, because he knew that if he did, he wouldn't be able to start moving again, and that would be the end of him.

Every so often, at regular intervals, he would tighten his arm around the limp form he carried with him, ensuring that he didn't unknowingly slacken his grip too much and let the other man slip to the ground. But it was hard, and each time he wondered whether he'd make the same effort next time.

Beneath the red haze, he told himself that it was really no different from running a marathon, or helping Cloud when they'd escaped from Nibelheim. There'd been times during both cases when he'd been hurting, a part of him wondering, telling himself that he couldn't take that next step, that he had to slow down, could afford the loss of time, that it really wasn't all _that_ important. That maybe, he just wouldn't make it this time.

But in the former case, he'd _known_ that he could keep running, because he'd run like that before, and each new step was the same as the one he'd just taken. He'd seen Angeal's face in his mind's eye, judging his abilities, knowing it was challenging, but confident he could go until the end. And in the latter, each step had meant freedom. Each one was for Cloud's life, Aerith's smile, Angeal's honor.

And now… Now, though he told himself this time was the same, another part wondered just who he was making this effort for, if Aerith and Angeal were dead.

_For Sephiroth_… Was that even true? He supposed it must be, since, after all, everything he'd done thus far had been for Sephiroth. Even if he was still insane. Though the thought of carrying the man so close to him still made him want to shrink away, and that _hurt_ because Sephiroth was supposed to be his _friend_, and this feeling felt to Zack like he was betraying their friendship. But images of the man's cruelty were still fresh in his mind, running through his thoughts. Yes, Sephiroth could be sane now, but not knowing… Gaia, not knowing was killing him as surely as his injury was. So he turned his thoughts away to something else.

_For Cloud_… Maybe he could see Cloud again! The expression on his face when he saw Zack would be priceless. And then Zack could tell him just how proud he was of him, how he always knew he could take care of himself… And then he'd bug his friend about how long it was taking him to hook up with Tifa, which he should have done long before now, in Zack's opinion! And Cloud would blush and stammer, and Zack would ruffle his hair and laugh, and it would be just like old times again…

_For himself_. Maybe that's who all this really was for. Zack desperately wished for a return to those old days, those good times before Hojo and Hollander, and Genesis and Jenova. Before the sanity left everyone he'd always counted on to be sane in such a crazy, twisted world. In a way, everyone had let him down. Oh, it was selfish to think that, but _why_ couldn't everyone have just _stayed the way they were_? They were happy like that, and Zack could have celebrated his promotion to First, and Angeal could have been there too, and he would have been so proud, and Zack could have been the hero he'd always wanted to be…

Except, underneath it all, they really hadn't been happy – Angeal and Sephiroth and Genesis – at least, not near the end. And heroes never became heroes the way they wanted, and Zack was surely no hero if he'd been blind to all the underlying tension in his friends. And, without Hojo, Hollander, and Jenova, there'd be no Angeal, Sephiroth, or Genesis.

So, maybe it had all been pointless, and even if he could go back to those times, there really wasn't a true happiness to go back to.

Gaia, that was a depressing thought. Zack had spent many enjoyable occasions with his friends, _surely_ they'd been happy too? Or had Zack truly missed out on everything, ignored what they really needed, Angeal and Seph…

_Seph_. The name burned his thoughts. For a long time now, he'd called the demon wearing his friend's face by his full name, _Sephiroth_, unable to use the shortened, familiar version he'd given the General, when it hadn't been his friend at all. And now…he didn't know if he could bring himself to use the nickname. Was the Seph that existed in his memories the same man he now dragged with him? And even if it was, the name, Seph, implied a level of trust and closeness that…well, that Zack didn't know whether he still had it within him to give.

That was another depressing thought. So Zack turned away from it, unwilling to face those problems just yet. He had enough of his own to worry about.

Suddenly, Sephiroth shifted slightly, or Zack imagined he did, and he froze, heart leaping into his throat. Would he wake up? Would he be sane? Would those piercing green eyes rip out his soul as they'd done in Nibelheim, and crush his dreams beneath booted feet? A thousand questions rushed through Zack's mind as he waited with baited breath to find out what Sephiroth would do, as had happened each time, previously, when the man seemed to have moved or made a sound during their journey.

After a tense moment, however, with no additional signs of movement, Zack concluded that he must have just imagined it. Again. Gaia, he was jumping over his own shadows! Shaking his head, he continued onward.

He'd been walking for a long time now. Through the fog his thoughts muddled about in, Zack was aware that he'd been constantly struggling upward, through the stone passage. On some, almost unconscious, level, he noted that there was something different about it… He didn't see the numerous branching corridors that had populated the path he'd come down before. But with the pain occupying his mind, and struggling to focus on other thoughts in an attempt to distance himself from it, the discrepancy failed to concern him. He was just grateful that he didn't need to try to determine his way through a maze, not that he would have noticed one through the darkness and haze, when it was all he could do to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other.

He stumbled, tripping over his own feet. The startled gasp drove knives into his lungs, and he was overcome by a fit of painful coughing. He lurched to the side to lean against the wall before he collapsed on the spot; he didn't think he'd have the strength to stand if he fell. As it was, he barely maintained his hold on Sephiroth until the fit passed. Shuddering, he slumped against the wall, tasting blood. He let out a rare curse. This was not good.

Closing his eyes for a moment in exhaustion, he turned slightly to let his forehead rest against the cool stone; it seemed to bring some relief to the fiery heat of his injury, chasing back the fog that clouded his mind. Zack almost wished that he were back in the Lifestream, where he didn't have to deal with pain like this. It had been so peaceful there… He'd almost forgotten what pain really was. If Sephiroth hadn't been occupying his time, he would have been happy, floating among the waves, spending his days with Aerith.

_Aerith…_ Oh, how he missed her. He'd always been able to sense her presence, no matter how far he wandered through the green river circling the Planet. She'd always been a comfort he could turn to when things got really bad. But now… Now, alive again, Zack had been cut off from the Lifestream, from the soothing wash of souls, and he was so cold, so _alone_. No matter how desperately he reached with his mind, his spirit, he failed to touch anyone else.

How did people live like this? How had _Zack_ been able to live like this, before? It was frightening. He'd tried to push the feeling away, but now, surrounded by the darkness and the weight of the rock around him, it returned, weighing him down. The loneliness, emptiness, threatened to drive the precious breath from his struggling lungs.

He had to resist it, he knew. What would Aerith say, if he gave up right now? Heck, what would _Angeal_ say? Zack could almost see his disapproving gaze.

_Remember your dreams and honor, Zack. _He mouthed the words.

_Dreams and honor… Sure thing, Angeal. Dreams and honor…_ But the question was, what dreams? What honor? Did he still want to be a hero? It seemed pointless now… Who would he be a hero for? It was a silly, child's dream. _For Sephiroth, for Cloud…_ No, they weren't in need of heroes, least of all Sephiroth. And Cloud was a hero in his own right, with friends and fellow heroes of his own.

Didn't mean Zack couldn't drop by to say, "Hi," of course, if he made it through this.

And honor… What did SOLDIER honor mean anymore, when ShinRa was corrupt, dragging SOLDIER down with it? SOLDIER… It was a joke, really. Zack wondered whether it had ever really been the organization he'd thought it had. Lies, all of it.

But…the people there hadn't been lies. Sephiroth, Angeal, Kunsel, and the other SOLDIERs… Their dreams, their friendship, had been real. Their desire to help people, to help each other, to protect comrades and allies and fight for a better world… It had all been in ShinRa's name, but it was _real_. Those feelings had all been genuine, as pure as ShinRa had been corrupt. Maybe the idea of SOLDIER honor wasn't as laughable as one would think. Those pure ideals still held true; though the organization fell apart, the idea of everything SOLDIER embodied remained. Maybe Zack could still feel proud to call himself SOLDIER.

Though it was painful to remember those days, knowing what had become of the three greatest members of SOLDIER. In a way, the idea of SOLDIER just left Zack feeling hollow inside.

He gave his head a rough shake and shoved himself away from the wall to continue his trek. These thoughts were not helping him! He needed to try to reach that optimistic part of himself, buried beneath all the pain and suffering. Thinking back, he called up memories of talking to Cloud, as he hauled his comatose friend across the world.

"So…" At first, his voice came out roughly, rasping in his lungs. Maybe he shouldn't be speaking, but he had to defeat the silence and his thoughts somehow. He coughed painfully to clear his throat, though it didn't help much. "Uh…Seph. Sephiroth. You don't mind if I call you Sephiroth, do ya? It's just 'cause, you know, not knowin' whether you're sane or not and all, considering you tried to take over the Planet…" He trailed off. _Smooth, Zack, starting off a conversation this way._ He decided to change the topic.

"What did you want a whole planet for, anyway? You'd think that if you really wanted to "sail the cosmos" with it, you coulda just threatened the President to give Palmer more money for his space program. Woulda been a lot less hassle that way. …Though on the other hand, dealin' with either of those two fruitcakes is enough to make anyone go nuts." He noticed, absently, that his Gongagan accent was coming through more prominently than it had during his years in Midgar, when it had faded somewhat. Times of stress tended to do that.

He still needed a different topic, though. Thinking of President ShinRa was just making him glower at the memories of the selfish, money-hungry dictator.

"When we get outta here, you call for a transport, alright? Well, unless you wanna hike all the way through the Sleeping Forest to Bone Village, but I'm tellin' you right now that I am _not_ dragging you all that way! The deal ends when we get out of these caves, got it?" He paused, as if listening for an answer. "What? You gotta speak up. Oh, yeah, yeah, I know I took _Cloud_ practically all 'round the Planet, but he was smaller'n you, and 'sides, he had Mako poisoning. You…you're just sleeping, or somethin'. Lazy. Wake up, already." He tightened his arm around Sephiroth in a poor imitation of giving the man a shake, though the last comment was colored with a mixture of desperation and fear – he wanted Sephiroth to be alright, but was afraid to find out that he was not really the friend he so hoped for.

Zack coughed again. "Besides…you gotta have a Lunar Harp to make it through the forest, don't you? Don't know 'bout you, but I haven't got one in my pocket. Couldn't play it, even if I did, but it would be funny to see _you_ try!" Zack grinned at the mental image.

"So…where do you wanna go, after we get outta here? I'm thinking ShinRa's pointless, since, between you and Cloud, there's not much left. And Cloud'll go all _Omnislash_ on you, anyway. I'm still gonna visit him, though." He paused, thinking. "Hey…how 'bout Gongaga? You never did get to see my hometown. It's really pretty, with waterfalls cascading down the steep hills in the rainforest… Gotta watch out for those frogs, though," Zack smirked. "I know you don't believe me, but they really can turn people to frogs!

"And I can see my parents again…" His voice took on a wistful tone. "Man, I haven't seen them since I joined SOLDIER! That's, what, how many years?" Zack racked his brain. "Let's see, I joined SOLDIER when I was thirteen…" Zack's carefully measured steps faltered and came to a stop as he added up all the years between then and now. When he next spoke, his voice came only as a shocked whisper.

"…F-fourteen…years…?" He stood, rooted to the spot, unable to comprehend that it had been that long. "…Fourteen _years_!" Desperately, he cast agonized, violet eyes upward, as if searching for answers, something to tell him that it couldn't be true. That was a small lifetime ago!

But there were no answers to be found in the dark ceiling of the tunnel, and he hung his head, shaking it in utter disbelief. "It…it can't be…" A sudden wave of weariness passed over him, and his knees buckled. He stumbled, trying to stay upright, but Sephiroth's weight pulled him down. He was forced to let go, only to catch himself with his injured arm, which immediately gave out. Zack let out a pained cry as he was pitched into the ground.

He lay there for a few minutes, still in shock. "…Mom…Dad…" He'd written to them, at least at first, especially when the days of training got long and hard, and everything about the city was still so new and unfamiliar, and made him feel homesick. But after a while, once he'd made SOLDIER, and the missions started and became longer and more frequent…he just hadn't had the time. Heck, he couldn't remember the last time he'd actually managed to finish and mail a letter. It was at _least_…nine years since they'd heard from him, if not more. And he wasn't able to visit them when he passed through after Nibelheim – the first time he'd actually seen Gongaga since joining SOLDIER. They probably thought he was dead. Which, to be fair, he had been.

Were his parents still alive? He knew they'd been alright when he'd been there – Cissnei had told him so. And they'd been alive when Cloud and Aerith had visited while tracking down Sephiroth… So they had to still be there! They just _had_ to!

Slowly, Zack drew his knees up, took as deep a breath as he was able, and pushed himself up to sit back on his heels. Determination shone in his eyes – he was going to make it back home if it was the last thing he did.

He reached to the side to gather up Sephiroth, biting his lip to avoid crying out as he was forced to, once again, use his left arm. Then he staggered back to his feet.

"…S-sorry, pal… Don't know what came over me. Must've…tripped…" He straightened and began walking. "One thing's for sure, though… You're gonna have to go on a diet when you wake up."

And so, Zack continued up the sloping path, thoughts filled with memories of home.

* * *

Zack was unable to say how much longer it was before he finally saw a sliver of real light up ahead. By now, his legs burned with fatigue, and he knew he was running on pure willpower and Mako alone.

As he stumbled closer, the light resolved itself into a narrow archway. Finally! He was through with the tunnels – after today, he never wanted to see another one, ever again. And he was home free.

Too tired to even sigh in relief, Zack focused his efforts on shuffling through the bright portal. He was forced to pause, leaning against the side of the doorway, to allow his eyes to adjust. And the sight that greeted him…

…Was not the lake or the dense trees of the Sleeping Forest that he'd expected. Zack's mind ground to a halt as he stared in utter confusion at the scene.

He was in…a vast hallway, having entered from the side. The room extended many meters in front of him, while the enormous length stretched to either side; yawning entryways at the ends of the hallway appeared as small doorways from the distance. Everything seemed to be made from a golden stone; giant columns supported a domed ceiling towering high above, which was open to the sky – great rifts crossing through the center divided it into six equal parts. Natural light, bright from his time in the dimness of the caves, shone through those gaps in the ceiling and permeated the area. Tall statues of strange, hooded figures were set into alcoves in the wall between the columns.

"…What…?" Zack had no idea what to make of this as he stared, at a loss. What had happened to the forest? Where was the lake? The large, seashell-like building? He felt, distinctly, that something had to be messing with his mind, because this was making no sense whatsoever.

_ …Must've gone loopy from all the time in the tunnels…_

Suddenly, a loud _crash_ echoed down the hallway to his right, and he stumbled forward to see past a large column, only to view a scene just as bewildering as the building he was in.

There were several people dressed in white armor of some kind, it seemed. They were shooting…_ray guns?_…at a black figure who was quickly pivoting and leaping from a fallen statue, only to deflect the bolts with two…glowing orange…swords…

_Huh?_ Either ShinRa, or somebody, had invented new toys while he was away, or Zack had fallen asleep watching some hokey science fiction movie. Or he'd started to hallucinate from blood loss.

He stared for a few minutes, still working to comprehend what was going on. The figure in black moved quickly to defeat his attackers, spinning from one side of the hallway to the other. Zack heard strangled screams from the others as limbs were removed, while the figure seemed untouched by the fiery bolts slamming into the stone around it, kicking up debris, or somehow magically reflecting from the shining blades.

…Although, the figure might have more trouble with the rocket launcher one armored man was lifting to his shoulder. The weapon was secured in place, and with a loud _boom_, the rocket soared toward the swordsman. But he merely lifted a hand skyward, somehow boosting the rocket upward without touching it, which destabilized its trajectory and sent it straight for the column next to Zack.

Almost in slow motion, Zack watched as the rocket headed for the column. He absently noted that the black figure had seen them as it pivoted, turning its head to watch them for a brief moment, before spinning back to its own fight.

And then the explosive slammed into the stone above his head, and Zack was ducking and turning away, and activating Haste from the Time materia in his armlet…

"Time to mosey a little faster!"

And then he was speeding away, as the explosion kicked stone shrapnel into his back, and the column plummeted to the ground behind them.

The boost of speed brought them quickly to the huge archway framing the exit, and out onto a barren, rocky world. For all the commotion going on inside, there was _nothing_ out here, not a single soul nor living creature or plant. It was as if the entire area had been deserted.

A wide, steep set of stairs spilled down in front of them, and Zack skidded to a halt, barely able to keep himself from tumbling down them. He panted, gasping for breath, the materia use having taken a lot out of him. He blinked, trying to clear eyes that had become blurry, and gazed around, attempting to determine where to go.

Various structures were built into the stone on landings on the sides of the staircase, and more stone figures marched down to the dusty, valley floor. An array of giant, curving stone pillars lined a wide pathway heading away to canyon walls rising up in the distance. The sky was overcast, and a cold, brisk wind blew, stirring up occasional dust devils that danced across rock and dirt.

It certainly didn't look very promising. Craning his neck, Zack looked behind them, back into the giant building. More explosions rocked the structure, and with small pebbles pattering down from the archway, Zack decided that trying to deal with whoever was inside was not a good option. Hopefully, they'd run into someone else!

Casting Haste once more to quickly bring them away from the dangerous battle, Zack bounded down the steps, then dashed out onto the plain, following the strange pillars. He could feel the spell start to wear off, too quickly, and cast it again, redoubling his efforts to put enough distance between them and the building.

Finally, the effort proved to be too much, and he staggered, the spell dying out. He gasped, trying to pull oxygen into his lungs, but it seemed like he could never breathe deep enough. He felt lightheaded, and dark spots swam in front of his eyes.

Quickly, before he completely gave out, he managed to stumble to one of the columns, dropping Sephiroth to rest against it. Then, tripping over his own feet, he lurched to the side, landing heavily in the dirt, too exhausted to even yelp at the agony spiking through him. This was it. This was as far as he could make it. He was unable to push himself any further. With one final effort, he pulled himself up to lean against the column, then let his arms fall lifelessly to his sides. Wearily, he tilted his head to stare blankly at the clouds, blinking slowly.

"Hey…Sephiroth. …I'm gonna rest here…for a minute…and you…you just let me know…when you're ready to go."

With that, his eyes slid shut, and Zack did not move again.

* * *

Awareness gradually returned to him, and with it came the feel of a chill breeze and the bright light of the outside world stabbing through his eyelids.

Sephiroth groaned, weakly shifting his head away from the light in protest, though it did little good. Because his head was resting against something very hard and solid, he thought he was lying down…and so suffered a nasty surprise when gravity dropped his head forward to his chest, only for him to automatically react by jerking back upward and snapping his eyes open.

Bad move. He squeezed his eyes shut against the offending light, wincing as both it and the sudden movement set his head to pounding, and raised a gloved hand to his forehead. What in Gaia's name had happened? So help him, if that Turk Reno had tried to spike the punch again with that foul substance he'd discovered in yet another effort to get his SOLDIERs drunk…

His thoughts trailed off. No, that wasn't it. Slowly, he opened his eyes to the world, taking in the unfamiliar sight – the twisted pillars, the rocky, dead lands, the overcast sky which he'd thought bright to eyes that had been used to darkness… This location, it was… Where was it, exactly? He remembered being in the caverns, the crystals, Jenova…

Spying a figure off to his right, he breathed a sigh of relief as he caught sight of Zack leaning against the side of the column. He leaned over, lifting a hand to set on his friend's shoulder and shake him awake.

"Zack…" But Zack only moved limply with the movement, and, his position disturbed, slumped forward. Sephiroth quickly caught him by the shoulders to push him back, sudden concern causing him to frown. He withdrew for a moment, only to catch sight of bright red staining his glove. His eyes widened, and his attention immediately drew back to his friend, heart starting to quicken in alarm.

Zack's entire left side was drenched in blood, from his neck downwards. The red liquid stained the column behind him, and pooled beneath him. There was a trickle coming from the corner of this mouth, standing out starkly against skin that was far too pale. The lack of movement, of any life at all in the still form, made it look like he was…dead.

_No. No, this cannot be._ In desperation, Sephiroth moved close to his friend, yanking off a glove to lay fingers against the chilled skin of Zack's neck and check for a pulse, at the same time bending over to listen for any sound of breath.

The seconds ticked by.

_There._ A weak fluttering beneath his fingers, too fast and irregular, and the faint, rasping sound of air moving through damaged lungs. Sephiroth sighed in relief. Zack was alive, but wasn't going to last for long at this rate, having lost as much precious fluid as it looked like he had.

Quickly, Sephiroth began to examine his friend to find the extent of his injuries. He gently tilted Zack's head back, finding a cruel gash along the left side of his neck. It wasn't critical, thankfully, and Zack seemed to have completely overlooked it while he was occupied with the wound in his chest and shoulder. Moving past that injury, Sephiroth spied another long gash scoring Zack's left side along his ribs; he carefully fingered the torn remains of the sweater to pull them away and get a better look. This one was deep enough to cause Sephiroth some concern and would certainly have been troublesome enough on its own, but again, Zack seemed to have missed it. Which, Sephiroth considered, as he finally turned to the most grievous injury, may not have been all that surprising. The one in Zack's shoulder seemed to pierce all the way through him. Sephiroth's blood ran cold as he carefully turned back the edges of the crude bandages to examine it.

It still seeped the dark fluid, though the flow appeared to have slowed. Sephiroth was unable to get a clear look at the full extent of the injury – he was hesitant to remove the bandages completely and risk tearing it back open where the blood would have adhered to the fabric. But he was able to note the ragged edges of the wound, and how they seemed to have partially healed in places. But if Zack had been able to use materia to heal the injury, then why…

_Oh._ One of the few limitations of the Restore materia, unable to properly fix misaligned bone… _Oh, Zack…_ Sephiroth had seen instances of other SOLDIERs suffering the unfortunate fate, and it was never pleasant. He feared what extra damage Zack may have inadvertently caused. …Though, ironically, from the looks of it, it might have actually helped to keep him from bleeding out as fast as he must have been before, at least with parts of the ugly wound having knitted together.

Gently, Sephiroth pulled Zack away from the column to get a look at the other side of the injury. With one arm securely propping him up, the former General pried back the bandages along Zack's back. They were practically glued together from the blood, but Sephiroth was able to determine enough: Jenova's claw must have entered just barely behind his shoulder blade, likely damaging it, before exiting below the left side of his collar bone, two other of her claws sending careless gashes along his neck and side.

_Gaia, if she had been any more careless…_

Cursing the wretched monster under his breath, Sephiroth carefully laid his friend back down, and set to work finishing the job Zack had started. He mentally apologized for removing the remaining fabric on Zack's pant legs and reducing them to ragged shorts; Sephiroth would have used his own in a heartbeat, but leather was a poor choice for bandage material. Tearing the fabric into strips, he layered them across the existing bandages, this time binding Zack's upper arm to his side – a much more effective job than Zack was able to do himself. Satisfied, he did what he could with the remaining fabric to cover the gash in Zack's side, and chose to leave the wound in his neck alone, since it had stopped bleeding long before, and he'd run out of usable fabric in any case.

Then, because it was quite chilly out and Zack couldn't stand to lose any more body heat, Sephiroth removed his own long coat and wrapped it tightly around Zack's smaller frame, heedless of the blood that would stain it. The coat may not have looked very warm to others, but appearances could be deceiving, and it had kept Sephiroth quite warm on many a cold night. …If only Zack were awake now to appreciate it. His pale skin was too much of a contrast against the black leather.

Now… What to do? Sephiroth had no idea where they were – they needed to find help, and quickly.

_When we get outta here, you call for a transport, alright?_

Sephiroth frowned. Where had that thought come from? Well, in any case, it was their best option. Though, on the other hand, Sephiroth didn't have any numbers that weren't from ShinRa or SOLDIER, and he was positive that going back there wasn't an option. …But he had to try something, and maybe, just maybe, he knew of one person that might have the willingness and capabilities to help them.

Reaching into the pockets of the coat wrapped around Zack, Sephiroth searched for his phone. Was it still there? His materia and sword had come with him, but had anything else…?

There! Sephiroth felt the cool object in his hand, and swiftly removed it. It even still had the small chocobo charm Zack had once given him. He allowed a faint smile, before snapping it open to dial Tseng's number.

…Or he would have, had the blasted thing not blinked a "No Service" warning at him. Growling, he restrained himself from crushing the traitorous device in his fist, and replaced it in the pocket. He would need to find aid elsewhere.

Quickly, he secured both their swords to his back, though was unable to suppress a pained expression as he discovered, for the second time, the fate of his beloved Masamune. Was this all that Zack had salvaged? Surely, there'd been more… He shook his head. He should be grateful that Zack had been able to take even this much, let alone willing. By all rights, Zack should have left Sephiroth where he'd found him – the exertion it must have cost to bring them both, along with two swords, could not have helped him at all. And could Zack have forgiven him so easily, to risk his life like this?

…They would have much to talk about, when Zack was finally healed and woke. But right now, Sephiroth needed to get his him to safety.

Bending down, he gathered his friend close, and, ever so gently, lifted him into his arms. Unfortunately, one of his arms was forced to support Zack directly on the wound on his back; he saw Zack's brow furrow in pain as he was lifted.

"I'm sorry, Zack," he said, quietly. "But you're going to have to bear with it."

Zack's head rested limply against his shoulder, and for an instant he saw a flash of violet as Zack's eyes cracked open to stare blearily at nothing. Then they closed as he fell deeper into unconsciousness, his body relaxing further into Sephiroth's arms.

"…Hold on, Zack."

With mounting urgency, Sephiroth glanced about them, having no idea where they should be going. This place didn't look familiar in the least! Off in the distance, not unreasonably far away, he saw a large, domed structure…which they'd apparently come from, judging by the footprints. His mouth went dry when he noticed small spatterings of blood also marking the path.

Had Zack carried him all the way here? And up from the underground cavern, however deep that had been? _How?_ By all indications, it should have been impossible in his condition. Then again, he was a SOLDIER, and when pressed hard enough, SOLDIERs and Mako could accomplish amazing things.

But even if he had, why would he have left the other building? Was there no one there who could have helped them? Sephiroth was tempted to go back and see for himself.

_But Zack must have had a good reason to come all the way out here, when he must have had trouble merely standing. …I'll have to trust his judgment. There's not enough time to do anything else._

Sephiroth turned to view the strange pillars marching away from the structure, ending a short distance away when rugged rock formations began to rise to take their place. The path continued beyond them, heading into what looked to be the beginning of some canyon, stone walls rising up and obscuring the horizon. That's where he would go.

_Gaia…I hope you know what you were doing, Zack. I only have one chance at this, and if I'm wrong…I honestly don't know what I'll do._

Taking one last, uncertain look behind them, Sephiroth set off into the barren wilderness, all too conscious of the time, and Zack's life, slipping away.

* * *

_to be continued…_


	6. Faith of the Heart

**Author's Note:** Believe it or not, this was quite a challenging chapter, especially when isolating different points of view. I hope it sounds alright... I figured it was either update now, or wait another week or two while I let it sit in the back of my mind. And since I'll be on vacation for a while, I really wanted to have something up before then! Well, please let me know how it sounds - if it turns out that I've missed an important idea, I may go back to change things. Ah, the perils of posting chapters of an in-progress story. XD Hope you enjoy! And thanks again to LuckyLadybug, for previewing things for me. :)

Hmm... I'm still trying to figure out which combination of line dividers looks best to separate the title from the rest of the chapter. FanFiction(dot)Net won't even let me include extra blank lines! It's draconian, I'm telling you...

* * *

**Chapter Five**

**Faith of the Heart**

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* * *

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Sephiroth trudged through the canyon, looking for some sign of civilization, but it all seemed to have been left behind at the unknown building. Had he been correct to come this way? Maybe he would have done better to take them back.

Zack remained limp in his arms, bundled up in Sephiroth's coat. He hadn't stirred once since Sephiroth had begun walking, and it worried him. Zack's head lay against his shoulder; his skin seemed too cool against Sephiroth's bare chest, making him wish he'd had a hood of some kind to prevent any further heat loss and protect the younger SOLDIER from the savage wind. The air gusted through the canyon, picking up dirt and sending the particles stinging against Sephiroth's skin.

The sky was still overcast, making their desolate surroundings seem all the more bleak. The golden-hued stone was gray and lifeless. There wasn't even a single hardy shrub or weed attempting to grow in sheltered nooks, and there was a distinct lack of any animal life as well – no insects or lizards braved this chilly weather.

Sephiroth judged that he'd been walking for close to two hours now. Despite Zack's weight in his arms, he traveled swiftly, seeking out anyone who might be able to aid them. If he had to, Sephiroth believed that he could tend to Zack…provided they had food, warmth, and shelter, all of which they now lacked. But with such a horrendous injury and the loss of blood he'd suffered, Zack would be slow to recover, if it wasn't already too late. And, having no means to repair the damaged bone and muscle, Sephiroth would be left with a difficult choice: to let it heal on its own as it was, or to risk the use of materia and accept the consequences of tissue mending incorrectly, both of which would likely lead to Zack being unable to use his arm well, if at all.

The thought of Zack, cheerful, optimistic, vibrant Zack, being reduced to one usable arm left a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. He would never forgive himself if it came to that.

Sephiroth would never admit it…but he was afraid.

He was afraid for his friend, afraid that, despite his best efforts, Zack might not make it. That even if he did, he'd be crippled for life, and the shadow that it would bring to shining violet eyes was something that he could not stand. As it was, Zack was barely clinging to life, shallow, labored breaths counting down precious minutes that he did not have. The idea that Zack wouldn't make it, that his life would be, once again, taken from him after everything that he'd gone through, was something that Sephiroth could not accept. And that it meant that Sephiroth would be left alone, friendless, was a thought more bleak than their surroundings.

For once, Sephiroth felt that he was running out of options. For all his knowledge, skill, and ingenuity as SOLDIER's most formidable General, he was beginning to dread that the dual-faced enemy he was now confronted with was one that he had no hope of overcoming: Time and Mother Nature. The time he had, he knew, was too short to allow him to keep walking endlessly. Yet this place, wherever on Gaia it was, offered nothing to him. He'd seen no shelter, no food or water… The best he could possibly do was bundle them up against the leeward side of one of the rocky crags. And that was it. But they'd be forced to move anyway, for the simple lack of provisions, and if the weather turned, there was no suitable place for them to take cover.

So, Sephiroth was forced to keep going, hoping that he might stumble upon some measure of salvation out here in the middle of nowhere. Gaia, he'd take all the hoards of Wutai over this in a heartbeat. At least then he'd have a fighting chance, and Zack would not be slipping away from him.

What was it that his old friends, Angeal and Genesis, had done, when they'd been faced with something so impossible that even their SOLDIER strength was not enough? Had they _ever_ been faced with such a scenario? Sephiroth thought back, sifting through his memories.

Angeal… There was a time, early in the Wutai War, just after the first major battle, when they'd stood in a smoldering clearing wrought by Fire spells and Summons, surrounded by slain comrades and enemies. The battle had been a victory, but a close one. And, judging by the number of fallen Seconds and Thirds, Sephiroth would not have called it a victory at all.

There had been something in Angeal's eyes that day…something pained, haunted. Sephiroth had been saddened by the loss as well, but Angeal seemed to have taken it straight to his heart. There had been too many of the dead, on both sides, and, Gaia, they'd been so young… And Sephiroth had known that in each of their lifeless faces, Angeal had seen his own apprentice, Zack – just nearing the end of his initial training and so close to pinning on Third, so close to being sent here, to war, but far, far too young to die, just as these SOLDIERs had been.

That night, with the bonfire casting a solemn glow over the camp, Sephiroth had found Angeal. His friend had isolated himself from the others following the memorial service, and sat, with his head bowed and hands clasped, as if the weight of the entire world had been resting on his shoulders.

After a respectful silence, Sephiroth had asked him if he'd been praying for the fallen. And he'd been surprised to hear the answer: No. It had been too late for that – prayers would not help them now. That job was for the priests, to comfort those mourning their lost comrades.

No, Angeal had been praying not for the fallen, but for the rest of them. For Sephiroth, for the SOLDIERs under him, even for himself, that they'd find the right way to end this war. For all of ShinRa's Mako- and SOLDIER-given might, strength alone was not going to allow them to win. It would only create hollow victories, just like this one, and in the end, both sides would be left with nothing. Angeal prayed for the wisdom and guidance to see them all through to the end.

That had been Sephiroth's first real encounter with any type of religious belief, firsthand, at any rate. And even then, he hadn't been sure what exactly it was that Angeal had believed in, who he prayed to, whether it was anything concrete at all. After that, Sephiroth had noticed other SOLDIERs occasionally steal quiet moments from the bustle of activity around them, and he wondered if they, too, prayed for themselves and their comrades. Sephiroth wondered if he should be doing the same.

For a while, between the three of them, Angeal, Sephiroth, and Genesis, he believed that only Angeal had ever chosen to actively pray. Genesis often spoke of the Goddess through his beloved Loveless, so he assumed that she was the center of his beliefs, but, to Sephiroth's knowledge, Genesis had never seen fit to bow his head in prayer.

That was until he noticed that his friend would occasionally vanish at the end of a long day, when things had been particularly hard or challenging. Once, in Junon, after a difficult mission, Sephiroth had followed Genesis out to the other side of the city, away from the giant canon, where the grass was long and green, and the hills dropped off sharply into the ocean. The sun had been slowly sinking into the vast expanse of blue, painting the clear sky and landscape with hues of gold, and Genesis had just stood there, watching. For once, he'd been quiet, losing the smug attitude of superiority he often adopted. Of course, he could simply have been watching the sunset, but Sephiroth sensed that there had been something more personal to it… Perhaps, a peaceful moment shared with his Goddess. Sephiroth had never desired to intrude to find out for certain.

Sephiroth recalled these moments when his friends had sought guidance, aid, strength from some higher power. They'd been moments when they'd needed it most, when their own knowledge and abilities, remarkable though they were, just hadn't been enough.

And so, now, with Sephiroth's own strength ineffective against the nearly insurmountable problem before him, he decided to take a page out of his friends' books and do something that he'd rarely ever had reason to do: he prayed. He wasn't sure himself who or what he believed in, if anything at all… There was the Planet, Gaia, and Genesis's Goddess. He'd known of the church in the slums where Zack often visited Aerith, though what holy being it had once honored, Sephiroth did not know. And he had never encountered any all-powerful being in the Lifestream. He'd never once prayed for himself, never having felt the need for it, and, certainly now, after everything he'd done at the hands of ShinRa and Jenova, he hardly felt he deserved it.

But surely, if there was a god or goddess, or angel, watching over anyone, they'd be watching over Zack. He, more than anyone Sephiroth knew, deserved it. He'd always gone out of his way to help people, always came armed with an encouraging word or cheery smile. He'd brightened up Sephiroth's gloomy days more than once, and Angeal himself had seemed to regain a purpose and a bounce in his step once he'd begun to train the boy. Zack had never once given up on anyone, refusing to believe that goodness would not prevail; indeed, he'd even held his hand out to Genesis and brought him back from the brink. And when things had been at their worst, Zack was at his best, giving up everything he had been for a single, lost friend.

And for all that, for all that Zack had given and gone through, he _deserved_ to be saved now. Sephiroth paused in his trek and cast searching emerald eyes skyward.

"…Please," he began, unsure exactly how one went about this sort of thing. "…I don't know how this should be done. …I don't know if I should be in a church, or kneeling…but there isn't time for that." He hesitated. "I don't know if you're there, or if you're listening, but _please_…do what you can to save him." He hugged Zack tighter. "I…don't know what more I can do."

He trailed off. Above him, the dark clouds hung, impassive. Around him, the cold wind continued, the harsh, rocky landscape unmoved by his words.

He hadn't expected a response, but still, he found some part of himself…disappointed. Turning his gaze back upon the clouds, he addressed them again, the barest hint of anger tinting his words.

"If you're really there…if there really is some god, some higher being, and if you really deserve your existence…then you'd help him! Zack has done nothing but good for this world, and for once, _just for once_, he deserves something back from it! He deserves something back from _you_." The thought of losing Zack squeezed Sephiroth's heart painfully. "And if you just sit there…if you just sit there and do _nothing_, and you let him _die_…then you're as undeserving of this world as Zack would be of you."

Sephiroth finished and waited, examining the sky, their surroundings, for any sign that his plea had been heard. How had Angeal and Genesis known when, or if, there had been anyone paying attention to them? Had they received some sign, some feeling? Or had they just somehow _known_, taken it on faith?

Still, the wind blew. The clouds remained; there was no heavenly light parting them to shine down from above, as had occurred in some of the movies Zack watched. And Sephiroth detected no magical path, or feeling, to draw them to salvation. He bowed his head, letting out a small sigh. It really wasn't surprising. There was no way to know whether he'd done any good, and as for faith… Well, with Zack dying in his arms, he needed something a little more concrete than that.

"I'm sorry, Zack," he whispered into the dark spikes. He wished he could offer some kind of reassurance to his unconscious friend, but with no aid presenting itself to them, he couldn't quite bring himself to give that empty hope. "Just…hold on." He told himself that the slight hitch in his voice was merely due to lack of water after walking for so long.

Resolving to keep traveling until he collapsed, Sephiroth continued. Surely, he'd come across some measure of civilization out here! He had to, there just wasn't any other option.

The next twenty minutes seemed like hours, with despair starting to weigh heavy on his heart. But suddenly, a resounding _boom_ shook the landscape, sending small pebbles clattering down steep outcroppings. Sephiroth jolted as if physically struck; his head jerked up to scan for the cause of the disturbance.

_There._ In the sky, below the clouds, a small, dark shape was making a wide turn, coming back around. As Sephiroth watched, it rapidly grew in size, until he was able to distinguish a strange craft of some kind… Wings angled down and out on either side of the main body, while a shorter, abbreviated wing protruded from the top. It was difficult to make out any more details because of the craft's solid black color, but as it drew near, through a dark, vertical window in the nose of the craft, Sephiroth glimpsed the form of a pilot.

_What on Gaia?_ The aircraft didn't look like anything Sephiroth had ever seen before. It certainly wasn't of ShinRa make, and, to his knowledge, Wutai had not possessed the technology to build something like this… Could ShinRa have developed something new? Or, perhaps acting in its place, the WRO, the World Regenesis Organization, had engineered some new vehicles.

The aircraft banked, mere meters from the ground, and slowly circled them. Sephiroth saw the pilot turn his head to acknowledge them, before steering the craft over a rocky embankment and disappearing down the other side. For a moment, Sephiroth stood frozen, hardly able to believe that this might be the salvation he was so desperately hoping for. Then he quickly made his way up the small rise to see that the craft had landed in a shallow basin in the landscape, wings now folded to a vertical position. At that very moment, a ramp was lowering from beneath the craft, and a dark figure descending to the ground. On the very edge of the horizon, where the clouds finally parted, the setting sun shone through, large and red, bathing everything in a crimson light, and casting long, dark shadows over the land.

Without wasting another moment, and filing away thoughts of caution for later consideration, Sephiroth swiftly headed down the steep slope. A combination of sliding on loose gravel, and bounding from one semi-stable purchase to another, allowed him to make it down in record time. Finally, he approached the waiting stranger. Whether the man was SOLDIER, Turk, WRO, or Wutai, he _would_ help them, one way or another.

* * *

Yori Markos stood, awaiting the arrival of the two men. He hadn't yet decided what he would do…one of them appeared injured, so he assumed that they were hoping to request aid. He was mildly impressed with the way the silver-haired man took the slope – with the speed and quick reactions he displayed in leaping down the surface, there was almost no doubt that he would have to be a Force-user, if not a Jedi. And it was good that the man was hurrying – the Imperials would not be long in tracking him down.

He'd gone to the temple several hours ago, only to run afoul of a squad of Imperial stormtroopers, backed by a handful of the more elite shock troops packing thermal detonators and rocket launchers. He'd hoped to navigate around them, but there was only one way down to the crystal chamber, where he sensed the two Force anomalies to be, and the troopers had been in the way. So, rather than let the Empire get their hands on them, he'd had to confront the soldiers first. Matters of the Force were his domain, and he guarded them jealously.

The battle had been an annoyance, however, as the stormtroopers held out much longer than he would have expected of them, complicating things with their explosives. They'd obviously never fought anyone wielding a lightsaber, but they'd been resourceful, and were certainly not stupid. So, when the two strangers had emerged into the Grand Hall, he'd been unable to do anything about them. And, rather than follow them directly after the skirmish, he'd chosen to investigate the crystal chamber first – he had his priorities, after all, and neither one of the strangers would be getting very far.

What he found there had been unexpected: a large, smoldering black mass laid out in front of the crystals, completely unidentifiable. If it had been a creature of some kind, even that was difficult to tell due to the surprising lack of any solid bones; the fire must have burned incredibly hot. There'd also been the fading feeling of an ominous presence, similar to that of a Sith's tomb, but somehow different, in a way that he could not place.

He'd taken his time in examining the area, but found nothing else of interest, aside from a handful of useless shards from some blade. The crystals had been quiet, as they'd been when he'd visited once before, and betrayed no secrets of the events that had transpired there. So he left, rather frustrated with the lack of progress in determining what they were for.

Returning to his somewhat antiquated _Theta_-class shuttle, christened the _Dushere_, Yori abandoned the temple to track down the errant Force-users. Unfortunately, it seemed that the Imperial squad had been successful in communicating their plight to the ships in orbit, so he was left to contend with a heavily armed Imperial landing craft escorted by a squadron of TIE Interceptors. This was much more firepower than his modest shuttle could match, so he was forced to abandon his search and seek cover in the extensive canyons crisscrossing the planet's surface. Thankfully, the vertical solar arrays of the TIEs did nothing for their maneuverability in the planet's atmosphere, and he was able to push the modified engines of his shuttle to greater speeds to escape.

He'd eventually taken a chance, during a break in their surveillance, to hop out of the canyons and speed back toward the temple to locate his quarry. But he knew that time was limited, and he'd have to find them quickly, or abandon them to the Imperials and make his own escape. Powerful in the Force though he was, he was definitely not capable of taking on the small fleet in orbit.

And so, here he was. He noticed that the spiky-haired man was no longer hauling his silver-haired companion. Their positions had been reversed; he wondered when the other had been so seriously injured.

The man who now approached was tall, perhaps taller than Yori himself. He wore his hair quite long; the harsh wind tugged at it, sending it whipping around him. He was shirtless, wearing only black leather pants and boots, with some kind of harness crossing his chest, likely to hold the massive swords he carried. Yori found himself wondering at the point of such heavy weapons. Gleaming steel pauldrons on his shoulders completed the man's appearance.

Yori cast his curious gaze to the smaller man bundled in the arms of the first, but was unable to tell much about him, due to the long coat he was wrapped in. His black hair stuck out in all directions, framing a face that appeared rather young, but unnaturally pale. Yori sensed that he was dying.

The silver-haired man opened his mouth to say something, but Yori beat him to it. He didn't have time for idle chatter with the Imperials bearing down on them.

"Come with me. We need to leave, quickly." He didn't even stop to consider whether these two might have been allied with the Imperials. They were with him now, and he wasn't about to give them the choice, not when he had so many questions.

He pivoted on his heel, cloak billowing with the wind, and strode back up the ramp into the ship.

* * *

Sephiroth had examined the man in the fading light, as he approached. He judged him to be in his late thirties or early forties; he was tall, with thick, black hair pulled back in a short ponytail. He had pale, blue eyes that reminded Sephiroth of chips of glacier ice, and which studied him and Zack in turn. Sephiroth had the sudden, unreasonable urge to hide Zack from his penetrating gaze, but it was ridiculous and he pushed it away; they needed this man's help. Aside from the cape, the stranger was dressed in rather aristocratic-looking clothes, which were solid black, but accented with conservative red designs. Automatically searching for any weapons on the man, he noted two belts at his waist, but did not recognize any of the items they held. He did notice at least one knife handle in the top of one of the boots, but whether there was anything else, perhaps beneath his sleeves, Sephiroth could not ascertain.

At the man's quick words, Sephiroth was slightly taken aback, but wasted no time in following. The sooner this man could take them to a hospital, the sooner Zack could be saved.

"Put him back there." Sephiroth was directed through a circular doorway into a small room with metal bulkheads, furnished with a bed built into the side of the wall, and a workstation of some kind. He gently laid Zack onto the thin mattress, taking a moment to smooth the wind-blown hair out of his eyes. The motors in the ramp _whirred_ as it lifted back into place, sealing them inside.

"Can you take us to the nearest civilization?" Sephiroth asked, urgently. "He's lost a lot of blood – he needs to be taken to a hospital." He looked up, only to find that the man had left them to head to the cockpit. He narrowed his eyes in irritation.

But the man had still apparently heard him. "The nearest civilization?" His cultured voice had an incredulous tone to it. "I'm afraid that's light years away."

_Light years?_ Sephiroth shook his head, assuming it was some kind of expression.

"Where are we? I don't care where you take us, so long as it has suitable medical facilities. I'd prefer to avoid Midgar, but perhaps Junon or Kalm, or even Gongaga… Whatever is nearest." He couldn't expect that Gongaga would be near them, as the landscape was too different. But he had a feeling that Zack would like to go back to his hometown. It was someplace familiar and safe, and Sephiroth was sure he would very much like to see his family again. They would have to go there, once Zack recovered enough.

"…Junon…Gongaga…?" The pilot puzzled over those names, even as the hum from the aircraft engines increased, indicating a surge in power in preparation for takeoff. "I'm sorry, but I do not recognize those names. What system are they located in?"

"System? What do you mean?"

At this, the pilot turned in his chair to cast a strange look back down the short hallway at Sephiroth, raising his eyebrows. "_Star _system…?" At the uncomprehending look on Sephiroth's face, he turned his attention back to the controls. "Never mind. We'll sort things out back on my ship. There are medical facilities there."

Slowly, Sephiroth nodded, not sure what the pilot's problem was. What did he mean by "star system"? And how could he not know of Junon? Gongaga, Sephiroth could understand, it being a backwater town with a small population. But Junon housed a military base second only to Midgar's in size. It would have been ShinRa's secondary base of operations in the event of emergencies; it was not a small town.

In any case, that would be something to ask the pilot later. Right now, Sephiroth needed a medkit to tend to Zack during the flight.

"Do you have any emergency medical supplies?"

"There is a med-pack located in a drawer near the bed. Is it that critical? The flight will not take long."

Without answering, Sephiroth located the drawer and pulled out the pack. However, upon opening it, he was faced with a variety of items that didn't look at all familiar to him. There were some bandages, but that was about all he could reliably identify. He frowned in confusion.

The pilot glanced back, having not received an answer. "…If he's that bad off, you can try the spray hypo to stabilize him until we reach the ship."

_The spray hypo…_ Sephiroth identified this as a small device, similar in basic form to a gun, with a trigger and needle. There was a small, circular port into which he judged a vial of some kind would be loaded.

"Is he human?"

The question caught Sephiroth by surprise. "Excuse me?"

"Your friend. Is he human?"

"…Yes…" Sephiroth raised an eyebrow at the absurd question.

"Then use the clear vial." And with that, the pilot raised the craft from the ground.

As it began to pick up speed, Sephiroth fitted the appropriate vial into the device, still wondering at the strange question. Then, sliding back the coat to reveal Zack's unbound arm, he located a vein and injected the fluid. There was no discernable change in Zack's condition, so he could only hope that it did some good.

An unexpected jolt from the sudden acceleration of the aircraft almost knocked Sephiroth over; he was forced to grab onto the sides of the bed in order to stay upright, and lay an arm across Zack to keep him from sliding from the bed.

What was the pilot doing? This was not how you handled a craft with injured people on board! He was about to state as much to the pilot, when he was cut off.

"If you're done back there, I recommend you strap yourselves in. There are Imperial craft tailing us, and they're just as likely to shoot us down as ask what we're doing."

Imperial craft? What was he talking about? Perplexed and increasingly annoyed by the strangeness of the entire situation, Sephiroth found straps on the bed to secure Zack in place, then, having no other place to sit other than the copilot's chair in the cockpit, he reluctantly left Zack's side to make his way forward.

"Would you explain what exactly is going on?" he demanded, buckling himself in. Through the windshield, the ground raced by beneath them. Suddenly, green streaks of light crossed their path, followed by an oddly shaped gray object, and the pilot banked the aircraft to the hard right, then pulled back on the yoke, sending them skyward. Sephiroth was pressed into his seat as they accelerated further, finally bursting through the cloud layer.

The unexpected brilliance of the sun dazzled his eyes, until the windshield darkened to compensate for it. Sephiroth expected the pilot to level off at some point, but they kept heading upward, further and further. Turbulence jostled them, making Sephiroth grit his teeth. He hoped Zack was doing alright!

The endless sky darkened to a deep sapphire, and finally to black, tiny points of light appearing and growing brighter. The turbulence soon faded, followed a moment later by the feeling of acceleration, and they were cruising smoothly. Then, the nose of the craft swung down and to the left, and Sephiroth was met with an utterly astonishing sight.

They were above the planet. So far above, in fact, that the curve of the golden-brown sphere was clearly visible, the thin layer of atmosphere causing the edge of the planet at the horizon to appear fuzzy. A moon, in crescent phase, hung brightly in the sky before them; it was to this that their craft seemed to be headed.

For a long moment, Sephiroth gazed at this view, speechless. He didn't know what to think. The vehicle he was on was no aircraft…it was a spaceship! But how was that even possible, when ShinRa had all but pulled the plug on their space program? Who _was_ this person he was sitting beside? Suddenly, his previous words made sense, but only if he considered that… But, no, it was too impossible, too _insane_ for it to be true…!

"Dak'tar IV. The fourth planet of the star Dak'tar, in the system of the same name. A bright little speck of nothing out here in the Unknown Regions." The pilot pointed to the moon. "That's where we're headed. My ship will meet us halfway; with the Imperials after us, it's going to be a close one." He indicated a small, bright, triangular shape off to the right. "They're moving to intercept us even now."

Sephiroth glanced at the distant object, the significance of it lost on him. He was still trying to wrap his mind around what he was seeing. He was now on a spaceship, there were, apparently, other spaceships, and they were much more advanced than what ShinRa had been capable of… Had they somehow been transported to the future? Or had people from other planets suddenly visited Gaia, in the short time between Sephiroth leaving the Lifestream and regaining consciousness? But those ideas were equally absurd…unless that short interval of time had been much longer than Sephiroth realized.

Or…had they not been on Gaia at all? Until that moment, Sephiroth had never questioned the assumption that they were merely some place on Gaia that he had never visited – the thought had never occurred to him that the very planet was different. Indeed, the pilot had called it…what was it…Dak'tar Four?

"That planet…it is not Gaia?" he asked.

"Gaia?" The pilot appeared puzzled. "No… It's listed in the charts as Dak'tar IV."

"Where is Gaia, then?"

"…I cannot say I've heard of it. I can look it up in the charts when we reach the ship…" He could look it up now, but didn't want to mess with it, not with the Imperials drawing ever closer.

Sephiroth frowned. Perhaps the man was simply calling Gaia by a different name. He couldn't see how it would be possible for them to have been transported to another planet. As the Lifestream had circled Gaia alone, it would be impossible to take them somewhere else, wouldn't it? Or did other planets also contain a Lifestream of their own? Jenova, after all, had come from somewhere, now that he thought of it, and how could there life without Lifestream? And if that was so, was it possible to link one planet to another?

"…Perhaps it would be best if we simply returned to one of the planet's cities," Sephiroth suggested, his thoughts racing. He wasn't about to journey off with some stranger to his waiting spaceship, not when he was so unprepared for this turn of events. He needed to find out what was going on and how this situation had come about before doing anything else. "They would be closer than your spaceship, in any case."

The pilot looked at him as if he'd grown a second head. "Have you forgotten what I said about the nearest civilization being light years away? There is _nothing_ on that planet! It has been barren for centuries. There are no cities, no sentient life, no animal life, and no plant life. Dak'tar IV is as devoid of life as an asteroid. Until the two of you appeared there." He paused, examining Sephiroth. "…Surely you knew that?" He spoke as if it was impossible for Sephiroth _not_ to know it.

Sephiroth remained silent, pondering this new information. What did that mean for Gaia? Either the planet was Gaia, or it wasn't, neither of which were possibilities that Sephiroth liked.

"…How did you arrive on the planet?" queried the stranger.

Sephiroth again chose not to answer, indicating that he did not wish to speak of the matter further. He needed to gather his thoughts, and he didn't know how much he should reveal to the pilot, especially when he didn't know what had happened himself. Whether the pilot was trustworthy was something that remained to be seen.

To his credit, the pilot did not inquire further, though Sephiroth could tell he was interested. Instead, the stranger turned his attention to the controls on the console before him. Sephiroth watched in silence, observing his actions, even as his mind raced to make sense of everything he'd seen.

"…These Imperials… Who are they? What do they want?"

The pilot again cast an incredulous look upon Sephiroth, causing him to wonder whether he should feign knowledge of the situation so as not to be at a disadvantage. It all really depended on who this person was, was his motives were. Could he be trusted with the fact that Sephiroth was as lost as he'd ever been, that he was entirely out of his element? The man had freely rescued them…but even so, at this point, there was a limit to how far Sephiroth was willing to extend that trust. He needed to be absolutely sure, especially with Zack so injured.

"…The _Imperials_? The Empire that, until recently, had ruled most of the known galaxy?" Sephiroth kept his expression impassive, allowing that to serve as whatever answer this man might take it for. Eventually, the man turned back to the controls. "Hmph. Have you been living in the Unknown Regions your entire life?"

_The Unknown Regions?_ "…That…would not be an incorrect assumption." For all Sephiroth knew, it was true. If he was lucky, this would be an excuse he could fall back upon.

Surprise flickered through the pilot's eyes, not having expected Sephiroth to actually confirm that it was so. "…In that case, I'll see that you're updated on the affairs of the _civilized_ galaxy-" Here, his lip curled slightly in scorn, though whether it was for Sephiroth's "origins" or the civilized galaxy itself, Sephiroth did not know. "-when we return to my ship."

Sephiroth inclined his head. "Thank you."

At that moment, the fighters that had been left behind in the atmosphere finally caught up with them. Their craft shook as they were hit.

"What-"

The pilot swore and juked the shuttle to the side. "TIE Interceptors. Fast little nuisances." At Sephiroth's blank look, he went on to explain, "Imperial fighter craft, each manned by a single pilot. If we're not careful, they'll blow us out of the sky." As he spoke, he manipulated additional controls, and soon the sound of the craft's aft laser cannon was heard, trailing the fighters across the sky, and dissuading them from sitting on their tail. One of the fighters dove past the viewscreen; quick reactions on the pilot's part sent bright red light lancing forward to blow it to pieces.

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow. "Good shot."

The pilot grunted. "The computer's doing most of the targeting, but these Interceptors are too blasted quick. It's consistently lagging behind." He sent the shuttle through a series of stomach-churning evasive maneuvers. "Can you shoot?"

"…I can try."

"Good." The man gestured to a station just behind and to his left, facing outward. "The gunnery station gives you control over both the forward quad cannons and the aft; you can cycle between them to choose whichever works best for you. Keep them off our tail."

Vacating the copilot's seat, Sephiroth quickly slipped into the chair in front of the other station. Giving everything a cursory once-over, he gripped the yoke, moving it experimentally. It caused a set of green crosshairs to move on the screen before him. _Seems rather straightforward_, he mused. He quickly discovered that a toggle switch to the side of the screen caused it to alternate between views through the other cannons, and paused when an enemy blip appeared onscreen. Immediately, tiny symbols detailing information about the enemy craft materialized, though they were symbols that Sephiroth did not recognize. However, he assumed they were not relevant to shooting the fighter down, so he centered the crosshairs on it and pulled the trigger.

The guns sounded loud in his ears, and, from the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of red light up the forward viewscreen. But the enemy indicator on his console was still there. He had missed! Sephiroth narrowed his eyes in annoyance, and tried again, this time holding the trigger for a few seconds longer. The guns repeated, blasting away…and the indicator vanished. Sephiroth allowed a satisfied smirk.

"Good. Now just keep that up until we make it to the ship!" The pilot's voice sounded a tad strained. "I wouldn't doubt that the Imperials will be sending more fighters to intercept us, so the more you take down now, the less we have to deal with later. My ship is coming to pick us up, but, like I said, this is going to close."

Sephiroth nodded, and went back to targeting the fighters. They were coming in quickly now. The shuttle's other guns sounded around them; the computer took over those while he was occupied with one, but it again had little success.

"Why are they after us?" It couldn't be because they knew who Sephiroth and Zack were, could it? Sephiroth couldn't see how anyone would know of their return from the Lifestream, and even if they did, he was quite certain that no one other than ShinRa would be interested in killing or capturing them. But ShinRa was all but dead, and though the WRO might have an interest, surely they wouldn't risk killing Zack, not with Reeve heading the organization and being one of Cloud's companions.

"Likely because I destroyed one of their landing parties."

Sephiroth frowned. "Why-"

"It was either that, or let them get their hands on you. And trust me, that would not be a pleasant experience."

"What do you mean?"

The pilot smirked. "Let's just say that it's better for all of us that you not end up with them." The shuttle was abruptly put through a series of jarring maneuvers as a group of three TIEs tried to box them in.

Sephiroth's concentration was divided between shooting at the fighters and the conversation, but he wasn't sure he was satisfied with the answer. It would be something else to inquire about later.

The minutes passed quickly, and soon they were down to one last fighter. But it held back, just out of the ideal range for the guns, swooping in at intervals for quick shots, in a pattern that made it difficult for Sephiroth to predict which cannon would be needed. The bolts impacted against the shuttle's shields, causing the craft to shudder.

The pilot swore at the annoyance. "That thing is whittling down the shields faster than they can recharge." He pulled a lever and flipped a few switches. "Hold on. I'm going to shunt the remaining cannon energy to boost the shields, and then redirect everything to the engines." There was a beep, and the gunnery station went dark, then a jolt as the ship accelerated yet again.

They successfully pulled away from the lone fighter. But at that moment, a warning sound alerted them to yet another problem: a squadron of twelve additional TIEs were moving to intercept them, still some distance away.

"…These Imperials are persistent," Sephiroth commented.

The man beside him grunted. "I'm guessing they _really_ didn't like it when I took out their landing party."

"Where's your ship?"

A set of pale blue eyes scanned the stars before them. "It should be…there." He pointed at a small shape toward the left, a fraction of the size of the triangular craft that had now more than tripled in size, and practically invisible but for the sunlight highlighting the side of it. He altered course, moving directly toward it. "With any luck, we might be able to reach it before the fighters arrive.

"That was some decent shooting back there, by the way. You act like you've done it before."

Sephiroth shrugged. "It was not difficult to pick up."

"It's no small matter to shoot down TIEs from a moving platform. Don't underestimate your abilities." The pilot peered over at him. "Perhaps the Force was guiding you."

The SOLDIER grunted noncommittally; again, he didn't know what the man was referring to, and his thoughts were now on Zack. He was impatient for things to be over and to see how his friend was faring.

The pilot observed him in silence for a moment, then offered a hand. "Before things get worse, I'd like to know who I'm fighting with. I'm Yori Xan-Markos; this is my personal shuttle, the _Dushere_."

At this, Sephiroth turned to gaze at him, piercing emerald eyes studying the man, trying to determine whether he could at least be trusted with his name. Had they been on Gaia, Sephiroth would likely be interested in concealing his identity, just in case he was still a person of interest to ShinRa or the WRO. He wanted nothing to do with them. But, as they were now rocketing through space – and Sephiroth still found that hard to swallow – with no sign of Gaia or ShinRa anywhere, perhaps it no longer made a difference.

He gripped the pilot's hand firmly. "Sephiroth."

Yori nodded, staring at Sephiroth's eyes, which he had not gotten a good look at until this moment. They were SOLDIER eyes, glowing with the power of Mako. A brighter shade of green surrounded the pupils, while dark flecks dotted the irises. They would have been utterly captivating, were it not for the shape of the pupils – they were slitted, much like a cat's, and stared unwaveringly into Yori's own eyes, slightly unnerving him. The pilot dropped his gaze, turning back to the console. Sephiroth continued to observe him, attempting to learn more about the ship he was piloting.

After that, things happened quickly. They were able to close the distance to Yori's ship, arriving just as the TIE Interceptors came within range. Under cover of the new ship's cannons, and through some risky maneuvering, Yori was able to make it inside the docking bay to land. Sephiroth quickly collected Zack and they vacated the shuttle, even as the larger ship – a Corellian corvette, the _Kolidere_, Sephiroth had learned – came under attack of the guns of the Imperial ship – a Star Destroyer.

Sephiroth, now more concerned about the young man in his arms, demanded medical attention, even as Yori Markos barked orders into a communicator of some kind. Sephiroth overheard him directing others to prepare the "S-drive" for immediate use, and then he was ushered down a hallway to a small medical bay. At that point, Yori quickly left them to attend to other things, and Sephiroth and Zack were turned over to a doctor and his assistant.

"He's fading fast!"

This, Sephiroth did not need them to tell him, for he already knew from the pallor of Zack's skin, and his shallow, rapid pulse. The leather coat was ripped away, tossed carelessly into a corner, and the extent of the blood soaking the once blue sweater made Sephiroth feel sick. This was immediately cut away, the crude bandages disposed of, revealing the full degree of the wounds. He spoke quickly, telling them what he knew of Zack's injuries, while the doctor instructed his assistant, and various medical devices were urgently prepared. With all the commotion, a part of Sephiroth wondered in annoyance whether they were even listening to him. _Would Zack be alright? How much blood had he lost? Could they fix his shoulder? He seemed to have trouble breathing – could they take care of that?_

_…Would Zack be _alright_?_

Before he realized what was happening, Sephiroth stood outside the boundary to the medical ward, with the door sliding shut in his face. They had locked him out in order to attend to Zack; he could see dark shadows moving hastily about through the thick, frosted glass.

At that point, Sephiroth realized just how fast his heart was pounding, how quickly he was breathing. Bowing his head, he rested a hand against the door, trying to get himself under control, to calm down. All his fears came rushing back to him. He willed Zack to be okay.

_You're safe now, Zack. They're going to take care of you, so you better pull through, you hear me? Please be alright, Zack._

_ Please…don't die._

And there Sephiroth remained, praying with all his heart and soul for the life of his best friend.

* * *

_to be continued…_


	7. Scars of Friendship

**Author's Note:** Back from vacation! I have to admit that I actually had this chapter completely written before I left, aside from a few minor changes. Yes, I was that busy procrastinating on doing other things. And I have to say, again, that the next chapter, or the next several ones, may come at irregular intervals. I will actually be moving to a new house sometime this month, though I don't know when, so things will be hectic around here.

On a different topic, I can never remember what it is that I mean to say in these Author's Notes when I first start writing a chapter. A while back, I meant to say a few words about materia in this fic, just as an FYI, but it completely slipped my mind. Anyway, for those who are sticklers about those sorts of details (like me), there will be a combination of materia both from the original FF7 game and Crisis Core. There are discrepancies about the specific materia used in the games: in Crisis Core, materia that contained several spells in the original game have been split up and called different names, and there is no All materia (something I've lamented on several occasions). I prefer the materia in the original game, since they give more options, so that's the materia that I'll mainly use here, though I will also include a few specific materia from Crisis Core that have no equivalent in the original game.

I've also begun a new FF7 fic, completely unrelated to this one. I couldn't help it, the idea came to me and I had to start writing! I hope to alternate between the two fics from now on. The new fic is not posted yet - just letting you know to keep an eye out for it, if you're interested. It will not be a crossover, but it will be an AU. And that's all I'm going to say about it at the moment!

* * *

**Chapter Six**

**Scars of Friendship**

**

* * *

**

Darkness.

It was all around him. It was all that existed anymore, the muted sights and sounds of the outside world having faded long ago into distant memories, somewhere up there upon the surface. He'd forgotten so much.

He'd forgotten what it was like to _see_. He had memories of things like colors, particularly red (too much), green (he'd been drowning in it), and black (it stabbed and tore and _hurt_). But those were fading too, and a part of him was glad of it. He didn't want to see those colors anymore.

He'd forgotten what it was like to _hear_. There'd been cruel whisperings in his mind, whisperings that tangled his thoughts and made him forget who he was and what he should be doing. And even longer ago, there'd been screams, screams that both pierced his ears and shredded his throat. But the memories of these sounds diminished as he fell into the darkness, and he was glad to see them go. With them went the memories of the sounds of names… names like _Hojo_, and _Jenova_, and _Sephiroth_. As sound lost any meaning to him, here in the dark, so went the meaning of those names.

He'd forgotten what it was like to _feel_. This, perhaps, was what he was most glad of. It seemed to have dominated his existence – incredible pain, so much of it… so much, in fact, that it seemed to stretch back, long into his history. He didn't want anything to do with it anymore.

Lastly, he'd forgotten what it was like to have _purpose_. This, he was not so keen on forgetting, because it filled him with a sense of loss; it was almost enough to make him get up and search it out again. But he didn't have the strength to move, and with the loss of the memories of names that had been important to him, the purpose faded away, also.

Despite all this, he had the very distinct feeling that he'd sunk into this darkness once before, on behalf of another name, which he'd forgotten, too. It was like dropping into the depths of an immense, black ocean. It completely surrounded him; it was vast, extending for eternity in all directions. Because of this strange familiarity, he was not afraid, content to wait as he fell.

What he was waiting for, he could not remember.

It felt like he'd been sinking for a long time, yet still had far to go. But, before he realized it, he'd reached the bottom of the sea of darkness. And there he stood, yet still waiting.

He didn't know how long he waited – it could have been forever as easily as a moment. But suddenly, with eyes he'd forgotten he possessed, he saw something.

Tiny sparks of green light slowly brightened into existence around him. They were dim, but with nothing else save darkness around him, easy to distinguish. Green… He was sure that the color was one of the things he'd forgotten, something he didn't want to remember, but this green was comforting somehow, not the green that poisoned his thoughts.

He watched as green tendrils appeared near his feet, swirling gently like an early morning mist. They beckoned him somewhere, and he felt compelled to follow. He could almost feel… a presence, voices, somewhere very distant, in the direction of the wisps of color. One was low, rough, and comforting; the other sweet and melodic. He thought that he might like to join those voices. As unafraid as he was of this darkness, he was ready for something different.

The voices grew a fraction louder as he headed toward them. But then something changed. They grew alarmed, though still so faint that he could not make out what they were saying. And then the swirling tendrils started to withdraw, back the way they came, back to the voices, but too quickly for him to follow.

An unnamed fear gripped him, and he tried to hurry after the light, not wanting to be left behind. He wanted to join the voices, but the light was receding too fast; it was going to abandon him to the darkness with no path to follow.

_W-wait!_

He cried out with his heart, but it made no difference. The voices had become sad, but insistent – they were not going to let him come.

The light vanished. He was alone again. But this time, it was not the comforting darkness it had been before; he now knew of something other than this, and yearned for it, the presence of the voices. But they did not return.

And then his world of darkness was upended, and sent him spiraling into the unknown.

* * *

Sephiroth sat, watching the steady rise and fall of his friend's chest, as he slept. Monitors beeped steadily, reassuringly, in the background. Zack was still pale, but he'd regained some color since the operation, and no longer looked as if he was about to knock on Death's door.

The operation had taken several hours while the doctors had painstakingly patched up Zack's lungs and pieced together his fragmented shoulder blade. Sephiroth was sure he'd never waited for anything so long in his life, or felt every moment so keenly as he had during those hours. And finally, when the door slid open and the doctors exited with tired but reassuring expressions, the feeling of relief was so strong that he thought it might send him to his knees. He'd gone into the room… but for one heart-stopping moment, as Zack's utterly still face came into view, he'd feared the absolute worst. And then the steady tones of the machines registered in his ears, and he saw Zack's strong breathing. And he knew that his friend would be alright.

He sank into a chair that someone had provided for him, eyes never leaving his friend, and gazed at him in awe. He was alive! Perhaps… perhaps someone had been listening to him, after all. Perhaps his prayers really had worked. Reaching over, he gently ran a hand through Zack's soft spikes, pleased to note that his skin no longer carried the chill he'd once had. Then he took Zack's hand, careful not to jar his mending shoulder, and held it between his own.

_Thank you._ Sephiroth glanced up at the ceiling, staring through it. _Thank you… for saving my friend._ He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing the feeling of gratitude to wash over him.

Then he returned his eyes to Zack, examining the quiet form. His shoulder was heavily bandaged, his upper arm secured to his side to prevent it from moving and tearing anything open. Additional bandages wrapped around his abdomen to cover the gash in his side, and there was a small bit of gauze around Zack's neck where the scratch had been. He looked so vulnerable laying there, especially since he was no longer dressed in the familiar SOLDIER uniform – ruined as it was, it had been taken away and replaced with loose-fitting, white pants.

Before the doctors left to give Sephiroth some time with his friend, they'd apologized, saying that their ship didn't normally carry any bacta – apparently, some kind of healing substance – on board. It was due to the captain's policies, so Zack would be left to himself to heal, unless they arrived at an appropriate port. Sephiroth had shrugged it off – the Mako in Zack's system would help him to heal faster than normal, and Sephiroth had earlier discovered a Restore among the materia locked in Masamune's hilt, which he would use once Zack had regained some strength and the bone had a chance to knit back together.

Sephiroth wished that Zack would wake. But he wasn't sure whether it was so he could properly scold him for scaring him like he had, or to wrap him in a hug and never let go. But he was told that the younger SOLDIER would likely not wake for many hours yet. So he resolved to sit and wait, and watch over him. He did not want to leave that job for anyone else, especially in as strange a situation as they were in, with people he did not fully trust. And, though he would never admit it to anyone, a part of him hoped that Zack would be reassured by his presence, and unwanted dreams kept at bay.

As he sat and watched, he thought about what had happened, and the things he'd seen – the spaceships and strange technology. He needed to find out more, figure out where they should go from here. Yori had promised the use of his ship's database, and logically, Sephiroth should be headed there now to make the most efficient use of time and be sufficiently educated about their predicament by the time Zack awoke. But he found that logic was not enough to compel him to move from his position, holding his friend's hand.

Instead, his thoughts eventually traveled back to when he'd seen Zack pinned to the wall by Jenova, and further back to before Zack had pieced his soul back together, back to when Sephiroth had been bent on destroying his last friend. This… all this was _his_ fault. He'd been the cause of Zack's current pain, perhaps because he'd been unable to control Jenova in the crystal cave, but it was more than that, _so much more_ than that.

If it had not been for Sephiroth's thoughts, feelings, and actions, Jenova would not have manifested in the first place, back in the Lifestream. If it had not been for his deliberate cruelty, taking delight in Zack's suffering, his friend would not have been mentally and spiritually tortured as he had been during those years in the Planet's afterlife. _Years._ There was _no_ excuse for that! All Zack had ever wanted was to find a way to save Sephiroth, to bring him back to himself, and Sephiroth had given him Hell for it, every agonizing step of the way. Zack should have been at peace in the Lifestream – he deserved it after everything he'd gone through in life. But, as Sephiroth had done his part to ensure Zack's freedom had been taken in Nibelheim, he'd taken peace from him even in death.

Sephiroth gazed at Zack's pale face, and regretted everything with all his heart. He'd been personally responsible for bringing Zack to this. He could not express the remorse he felt for the fatal weakness that began everything in Nibelheim, condemning Zack… and Cloud… to years of torture at Hojo's hands.

There could not possibly be enough forgiveness in all the world – in all the _galaxy_ – to make right what he'd done. He shouldn't even be here at this moment; he had no right to sit by Zack's side, clutching his hand, as if he could expect the SOLDIER to still call him _friend_ when he woke.

But… what else could he do? Was it better for Sephiroth, a hated enemy, to be the first one whom Zack's gaze would fall upon when he woke? Or would it be better for a stranger – a doctor from this ship – or no one at all to be here, instead?

Sephiroth didn't like any of those choices, and it was painful that he could not even approve of his own presence. He wished that Angeal, Zack's beloved mentor, could be here instead. Why hadn't he been able to follow them through whatever method was used to bring them both to life? _He_ was the one who should be here now, not Sephiroth.

"If only you were here, old friend," he whispered to himself, mildly surprised that he'd actually spoken aloud. "Zack needs you, now, more than anything." He did not even know how Zack would respond to him once he regained consciousness. Far better for Angeal to be here than Sephiroth.

_…Are you so sure about that?_

Sephiroth's head jerked up, breath catching in his throat, as his eyes flashed about the room. For just a moment, he'd thought he'd heard… but that was impossible. Angeal was dead. He could not be standing here with them.

An amused chuckle. _For one who's finally learned to pray, you sure are short on faith._

"Angeal…?" Again, Sephiroth cast a searching gaze across the room. Perhaps he was going insane. Again.

The familiar voice grumbled in exasperation. _Here, would this help?_ Suddenly, a very faint, transparent figure stepped just into Sephiroth's line of vision. Immediately, Sephiroth cast his eyes toward the image of his friend, only to have him vanish. Puzzled, he looked away, and was surprised to see him appear again, from the corner of his eye. A repeat of the experiment produced similar results; Sephiroth could not view his friend directly, else he'd disappear. He frowned.

Angeal shrugged. _It's the best I can do, at the moment._

"…Are you really here?" Sephiroth asked in disbelief.

Angeal crossed his arms. _I guess that depends on your definition of "here,"_ he said, dryly. _But I am talking to you, and you're talking to me, if that's what you mean._

Sephiroth glanced at him skeptically, out of the corner of his eye. He wondered if this was all in his head, similar to the way it had been when the memories of his friends had helped him defeat his darker self.

The other rolled his eyes. _Would it help if I said it wasn't? Though I suppose me saying that could be in your head, too._

Sephiroth considered that the fact that Angeal could apparently hear his thoughts didn't lend much truth to his statement of the man _not_ being in his head.

_I'm a spirit, Sephiroth, of course I can hear your thoughts._

Was that how it worked? Sephiroth wasn't sure about that.

_Oh, for Gaia's sake…_ Angeal sighed, then waved a hand. _This wasn't what I came here to talk about. _ His gaze turned toward his former student, lying so still upon the bed.

Sephiroth followed his gaze, resting his eyes upon his injured friend. If only he could wake up now, and see his mentor standing beside him.

For a few moments, Angeal was silent. He'd always hated to see his student… his friend… like this. It was such a cruel contrast to the normally exuberant, bouncy SOLDIER. Zack the Puppy… a fond smile flitted across his lips. Then a shadow passed over his eyes, one of pain and regret, and he bowed his head. He, too, had much to atone for.

When he next spoke, Sephiroth knew that the subject was something other than that which his thoughts had momentarily been occupied with, just now.

_When Zack… and you… left the Lifestream, Aerith was terrified. I've never seen her like that. All of a sudden, you were yanked away from us, and she couldn't hear or feel your presence anymore. _ Angeal lifted his head to observe Sephiroth, and though the General could only see him in his peripheral vision, he could tell by the man's expression and the set of his shoulders that he had been worried too. _She was frantic. She thought she'd lost you two for good. That you'd just ceased to exist._

Sephiroth frowned. "What happened? How did you find us?"

He shook his head. _We still don't know what happened. Aerith thinks that it might have something to do with the crystals you were messing with. But there's no way to know for sure. We're still looking into it._

_It took…a _long_ time for us to find you. We don't even know where you are… It's some place so distant that… Well, like I said, we couldn't even sense your spirits. Eventually, we discovered that if we concentrated hard enough, we could barely see you, but those moments are sporadic and unpredictable_. Their spirits had been like tiny, flickering sparks, a thousand times dimmer than the faintest star in the night sky.

Sephiroth grunted. "How is it possible for you to be here, then?"

_It's… difficult._ Sephiroth thought he heard a strain in the man's voice. _I'm not here, exactly, but rather… projecting my thoughts to you. Aerith's helping – that's why she's not here._ He hesitated, struggling with whether he should really say next what he was about to. _…Truthfully… I probably wouldn't be here, if it weren't for Zack. He… Well, the Lifestream reached out to him… and showed us a very thin, fragile link that we were able to use to find and reach you._

"…What do you mean, 'the Lifestream _reached _out to him'?" Sephiroth demanded. Angeal sighed and turned a steady gaze upon him. Sephiroth knew what he had meant. "…Zack… nearly died, didn't he." Angeal didn't need to nod the confirmation. Sephiroth found that he was squeezing Zack's hand tightly; it would have been painful had Zack been aware of it. He forced himself to let go.

He'd known Zack's condition had been serious, that he'd been in danger of slipping away… but he'd never realized just how close his friend had come to leaving for good. He bowed his head. "Forgive me, Zack." He was glad that Angeal was here. He was the person who Zack needed most; Sephiroth was certainly not worthy. He stood, about to ask that Angeal stay with the injured SOLDIER.

_ What are you doing? You're not leaving him, are you?_

"It would be better for Zack if you stayed with him. I've been the one to cause all his pain – I'm sure he's not interested in seeing _me_ when he wakes."

_Gaia…_ Angeal closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose, as if he was suddenly suffering from a migraine. _Sit down, Sephiroth. Why do you think the boy went to all the trouble to save you from yourself, in the first place? Why do you think he came back, time and again, even though he knew you'd continue to beat him down?_

Sephiroth couldn't help but flinch at Angeal's blunt words. "I-"

_ Don't you think he knew exactly what you'd done, better than anyone? Don't you think that he'd be painfully conscious of it, every step of the way? Do you think that _mattered_ to him? _Angeal fixed his gaze upon his friend. _Zack knew what it was costing him to bring you back, but he didn't care. The way he saw it, it was the least he could do._

"…The _least_ he could…?"

Angeal sighed and started pacing. _You don't see it, do you? Zack blames himself for your fall at Nibelheim._

Sephiroth snorted. "That's ridiculous-"

_He always thought that there had to have been something he could do that would have kept you sane. I think he believed that it was a failing on his part that he couldn't._

"_His_ fault! He had nothing to do with-"

_ I know that! You know that. But that's not the way it is, in Zack's world._

Sephiroth frowned, turning to gaze upon his silent friend. Had Zack really blamed himself for Sephiroth's descent into madness? It didn't make any sense. Of course there was nothing Zack could have done. …Or was there? Was it possible that something Zack could have said prevented Sephiroth from going insane? From dwelling on his past, probing through the dusty tomes in the ShinRa mansion for answers that had never been the answers Sephiroth needed? Could he have kept Sephiroth from that quest, or would Sephiroth have pushed him to the side to pursue it anyway, despite all his attempts? As if from a distant memory, Sephiroth recalled harsh words delivered to his friend, and the hurt expression as he turned to leave him to his research…

Shaking his head, Sephiroth sighed. It would be all too like Zack to hold himself responsible for something that he had no control over. Whether he could have changed the course of events at that time was something no one could ever know; it was pointless to dwell upon it. Sephiroth would need to make sure Zack understood that.

"So… all the trouble Zack suffered in the Lifestream… You say it was because he was trying to make up for what he thought he failed to do at Nibelheim?" How could Zack believe that Sephiroth was worth all that? How could he know that it was even possible to bring Sephiroth back, that it was not just a futile endeavor?

Angeal nodded. _In part. But also because you're his _friend_, Sephiroth. And Zack would never leave his friends hanging, least of all one who meant so much to him._ He frowned at the General in admonishment. _You, of all people, should know that._

"I…" Sephiroth's brow furrowed slightly, as he tried to make sense of his thoughts and feelings. Then, after a long moment, he chuckled quietly, shaking his head. He sighed. "I suppose it defeats the point of everything for me to walk away now."

Angeal inclined his head. _Unless you want his actions to be meaningless._

A quick jerk of the head. "That would be cruelty beyond measure." Sephiroth examined Zack's face, noting how peaceful the features seemed in sleep, even as he kept Angeal at the edge of his vision. "…Will you stay, Angeal?" There was the barest hint of wistfulness to the question.

His fellow SOLDIER shook his head in regret. _I cannot. It takes a good deal of effort to make this connection._ He reached out a heavy hand to lay upon Sephiroth's shoulder; Sephiroth felt it as a warm brush against his skin. _You've always gotten along fine without me._ A sad smile softened his expression. _And Zack…_

"Zack needs you."

_No._ Angeal shook his head. _Zack needs _you_. That's what I've been trying to tell you. You're the one person he risked everything to save. …And I think you need him just as much as he needs you._

Sephiroth's eyes flickered, betraying his otherwise impassive expression.

Stepping forward, Angeal brought himself beside Zack's bed, setting a hand upon his forehead. _Be strong,_ he whispered. Sephiroth wasn't quite sure which of them he was speaking to. Then Angeal turned to regard the General. _Remember what I said, Sephiroth._ His voice was firm.

Sephiroth nodded in acknowledgement. "I will."

Angeal seemed satisfied. _Good._ He smirked. _I'll give Aerith your regards._

A grunt. "You do that."

There was a moment where the two gazed at each other – Sephiroth from the corner of his eye and wishing he could just look at his friend _directly_ – and then Angeal nodded once, and vanished.

Suddenly, the small room seemed lonely and cold, and Sephiroth found that he dearly missed the presence of his old friend. He hadn't known just how much until that moment, his absence once again revealing the void in his heart. He sighed. If there was one thing Angeal had said that was true, it was that Sephiroth did, indeed, need his younger friend. At this time, in this world, he was the only thing that held any importance to the General at all.

He just hoped that Zack could find it within his heart to forgive him. But he did not know how that would be possible when he could not even forgive himself.

* * *

_Zack dreamed. But he found no rest within those dreams. He was exhausted, his spirit tired beyond measure, but he found no peace._

_ He was wandering without end through a desolate wasteland. The landscape was monotonous; no features rose into the dark gray sky to distinguish one point on the sharp line of the horizon from another. It was unbearably flat, and Zack had no idea where he was going. Low clouds blotted out all sky, pressing down on him. He felt small, insignificant upon a landscape so vast, expanding without end._

_ A frigid wind blew, and Zack struggled against it, bent over, with arms wrapped tightly around himself in a futile attempt to keep warm. His SOLDIER uniform did nothing for the chill; some part of him was surprised that there was no frost coating the frozen dirt._

_ He'd been traveling like this for a long time. He didn't know how long, but he'd lost most feeling in his arms and face from the cold. He wondered if he'd freeze out here._

_ He stumbled, fatigue nearly sending him to the ground. But he was able to recover, and stood, drawing deep, shuddering breaths. He shivered, rubbing his arms, and gazed around him, slowly pivoting in place and hoping that he might see something else out there. But there was nothing, just as there had been nothing for the longest time._

_ After a moment, however, the wind seemed to be dying down. He paused. It was almost too good to be true. But sure enough, the force of it lessened. It dwindled to a small breeze, then stopped altogether._

_ It was still cold, though._

_ Suddenly, he noticed a small object, drifting lazily downward from the sky. Stepping forward, he reached out, plucking it from the air. It was a large, white feather. He examined it, turning it over in his hands, running his fingers along the soft fringe. His breaths came out in short puffs of white to match its color. He wondered where it came from, and glanced upward, hoping to see its source… but there was nothing._

_ As suddenly as it stopped, the wind picked up in a violent gust, forcing him back a few steps. He raised an arm to protect his eyes, just as numerous, large, black feathers were sent whirling toward him, stinging his exposed face and arms. Before he realized what was happening, the wind had tugged the lone, white feather free of his grasp, sending it spiraling away with the others. His heart leapt, and he turned, reaching out for it, advancing a few steps… but it was gone._

_ As the mass of black feathers retreated into the distance, Zack realized that their color had leached into the sky, and he now stood upon a polished, glassy surface. Glancing down, he saw that the surface reflected a field of blue, decked with soft, feathery clouds, though above him was only darkness. The few steps he'd taken as the wind forced him back were marked as circular patterns of cracks, as if he'd been walking on thin ice. Automatically, he took another step back with the intention of getting a better view. _

_ As his foot landed, there were a few sharp _snaps_, and jagged lines snaked outward from his boot, fracturing the image of his own reflection. He stared in curiosity. Expressive, violet eyes gazed back._

_ On impulse, he slowly crouched, reaching down toward one of the larger pieces of his reflection. But as his fingertips brushed the smooth surface, it all suddenly exploded upward with the harsh sound of shattering glass. He jerked back, letting out a startled cry as razor-edged fragments sliced into his skin on their way past. He raised both arms to shield his face._

_ In a moment, it was over; darkness now surrounded him… save for a single triangular piece of glass – the one he'd been reaching for – suspended before him._

_ As he watched, it slowly rotated. It reflected his eye. Unreadable emotions swirled within the purple depths. Then it turned, bringing the other side into view, and Zack saw a different eye. This one was a brilliant green – the green of springtime and laughter, and even as he identified whose it was, the figure turned, revealing a pink ribbon woven through brown hair and golden highlights, and retreated into a verdant meadow of wildflowers._

_ The shard turned again, this time showing a bright sapphire eye, lit with the glow of Mako. This eye was troubled, and Zack didn't need to see the shock of spiky blond hair to know who it was._

_ Another turn, and the surface revealed a flurry of white feathers and a new eye, this one a deep, midnight blue. It, too, glowed from within, gazing thoughtfully at some unknown object, before the figure turned and took to the sky._

_ Yet another rotation, and the fragment showed a second green eye, the pupil narrowed and catlike. It was calculating and impassive, cool, with the shine of materia. Zack gazed long into this eye, and for a moment, before the shard rotated again, it seemed that the eye flicked upward to stare into Zack's own._

_ The next rotation brought it back to the violet eye, above the cross of a familiar scar, stark against a tanned jaw. The eye darkened, and Zack reached out to the shard, hesitantly, mindful of what happened last time._

_ However, as his hand neared it, the fragment ceased its normal rotation. Instead, it slowly fell back, bringing the point of the irregular triangle upward. But there seemed something strange about it, as if Zack wasn't quite seeing the whole object correctly, so he shifted to the side. That brought more of it into view, and he saw that the shard was longer than he'd thought. Much longer, in fact, and it extended away from him, a shining slice of gleaming metal, curving gently upward to meet with a hand-guard and hilt…_

_ Suddenly, it was a very recognizable object. It now reflected a startled violet eye, against a backdrop of churning, red flames. Zack could feel the withering heat of those flames, and his gaze jerked upward, only to see that they surrounded him. A quick glance back to the blade, and the wielder of the Masamune was abruptly there, and his green eyes were hard and unforgiving, and the Masamune was swinging in an arc straight for him._

_ With a frightened yelp, Zack leapt backward, the heat on his back flaring as he nearly stumbled into a column of flame. Instinctively, he reached back for his Buster Sword, the familiar weight appearing where it hadn't been just moments before, and whipped the blade out in a desperate parry to the second blow the Masamune was about to inflict._

Clang._ The force of the strike traveled through the sword and up into his arms, making Zack grit his teeth. He fought to keep a firm grip on the hilt. And then Sephiroth was coming in for another strike, and another, and another. It was all Zack could do to parry. Sephiroth was too fast, too strong, and Zack was being forced back with every blow. _

_ "Seph…!" His voice came out strangled, as he fought for breath and space, heat searing his lungs. Desperate eyes looked into frigid green ones, and saw a condescending smirk there, one that delighted in the cruelty he was inflicting._

_ Zack retreated, stumbling around the roiling pillar of fire to put it between him and this heartless mockery of his friend. It turned out not to be much of a barrier, however, as the sharp edge of the Masamune sliced through it; the shockwave it created put the flame out and sent Zack flying._

_ Zack gave a cry of pain as he landed hard on his shoulder. He barely had time to roll to his knees and deflect the blade aiming for his head. His arms trembled under the powerful strike. _

_ Shoving upward with his own blade, Zack tucked and rolled in close, hoping to get in under Sephiroth's guard and aim a blow at his unprotected legs. But when Zack swung, Sephiroth was suddenly not there, and as he missed the intended target and presented his foe with an unguarded shoulder, he felt a line of fire open up his arm from shoulder to elbow._

_ Zack hastily rolled backward, using the momentum to come up onto his feet. Again, he was forced to block a rapid series of teeth-jarring strikes, his arm throbbing violently with each one._

_ Zack fought desperately for an opening, but it was all he could do to stay on the defensive. Finally, with a yell, he struck downward with his blade, catching Masamune and forcing it to the side, and allowing the blast from his own Limit Break to tear into his opponent._

_ But, again, Sephiroth was not there. _

_ Rather than wait for him to appear, Zack dove through the nearest wall of flame and took off, dodging around and through the churning firestorm. His hair was scorched and his clothes charred, and the heat and smoke irritated his lungs and made his eyes water. He found it difficult to breathe._

_ As he ran, both seeking to hide from, and get the drop on, his enemy, he realized that the flames were burning something – there was something very solid that they'd been using as fuel. As he dodged around one blazing mass, it collapsed, sending sparks and splinters flying his way. A house. That's what it used to be. He vaulted over some fiery beams, and kept going, staring at the blackened shapes in growing horror._

_ He didn't want to look, to see everything that was burning, but he couldn't help himself. He was wandering through a maze of closely packed houses, people's homes, every last one in flames and various states of collapse. The roars deafened him, the heat scorching his skin. Thick, oily smoke turned the sky black, and red-lit cobblestones burned through his boots. It was a nightmare._

_ As he gazed at one pile of rubble, running past, he suddenly tripped and was sent sprawling. The Buster Sword flew from his bloody grasp, clattering to rest in the street; he barely caught himself before his face was smashed into the same stones. The heat they radiated blistered his hands._

_ Sitting up and yanking his hands away, he turned to look at what had caught him up. There was something in the street, not very big, but blackened beyond recognition. He stared at it, uncomprehending, for a moment. Then it dawned on him. The figure, it was… a person. A small person… a _child_. And laying next to it, beside what was once an outstretched arm, was a small doll. Flames licked at the fabric of its little dress._

No…_ Zack shook his head in horror, unable to tear his eyes away. Then he noticed other blackened shapes, _human_ shapes, littering the street and resting where they'd fallen in flaming doorways. His eyes grew wide, and he brought a hand up to cover his mouth, even as he tried to deny what he was seeing. He felt his stomach churn, and felt that he was going to be sick._

_ Abruptly, he scrambled to his feet, desperate to escape. He didn't want to see any more, but the horrific images flashed before his eyes, the echoes of agonized screams and cries rent his ears. _No no no no no…_ He backpedaled. But his foot caught on something, again, twisted, and sent him falling. His back hit the unforgiving ground and the breath was knocked out of him. The shrill scrape of metal against stone revealed that the culprit had been his own sword._

_ He lay there for a moment, gasping, spots dancing before his eyes. He struggled to breathe, but the horror and oppressive heat made it difficult. Finally, he levered himself up, only to see something that wrapped an iron grip of fear around his heart._

_ The tall, intimidating form of Sephiroth stalked toward him, black against the searing light of the flames. The flickering radiance starkly illuminated his face, turned silver hair molten, and shone evilly within his long blade. Flakes of ash drifted from the darkened sky to rest, crumbling, upon steel shoulder pauldrons bathed with crimson highlights, and the long, black coat whipped around his legs. The heat from the fires created unpredictable updrafts and invisible whirlwinds that sent tiny sparks spiraling into his path. Zack could see hard, inhuman green eyes glinting out from darkened features._

_ Zack was frozen to the spot by those eyes. It wasn't until the madman had nearly closed the distance between them that Zack finally snapped to, reaching for his weapon._

_ But he was too late. Sephiroth kicked the blade away, sending it spinning to the side, far from Zack's reach. He lifted the Masamune, twisting it to bring the hilt along his jawline and the deadly point aiming for Zack's heart._

_ Frantically, Zack pushed himself backwards, kicking out with boots that slipped on the smooth cobblestones, away from the threat of death gleaming in those eyes. But he was prevented from getting up by the tip of the blade hovering above his chest as Sephiroth continued to advance._

_ "Seph… you can't… you don't want to _do_ this!" His voice was pleading, eyes desperate as he willed Sephiroth to come to his senses._

_ Sephiroth smirked. "Of course I do, Zackary. You're the last thing that's been holding me back from fulfilling my true destiny."_

_ Zack scooted away, only to be brought up short by some object behind him. He hoped it wasn't another body. Nervously, he moistened his dry lips. "Seph… I… _Gaia_, Seph, we're supposed to be _friends_!" Agony wrenched his heart. "How could you _do_ this? All these people?"_

_ Sephiroth shrugged lightly, unconcerned. "They were in my way. As you are now." He gazed at Zack for a moment, but there was no emotion in his eyes, save for the sadistic pleasure in what he was about to do. "At last, I will be rid of the _mistake_ that's been dogging my footsteps for far too long." He shifted, drawing the sword back, in preparation for the final strike. "Farewell, Zackary."_

_ "Seph, _no_!" _

_ The desperate plea was cut short as the Masamune speared downward._

_

* * *

_

To say Sephiroth was startled when Zack's eyes suddenly flew open was an understatement. In an instant, violet eyes locked onto green, and even as Sephiroth thought to reach out for his friend, his name forming on his lips, Zack gave a terrified shout and scrambled away.

Limbs tangled in the bed sheets, and Zack fell heavily to the floor. Sephiroth leapt to his feet, worried, about to move around the bed to help him, but Zack was back up in an instant, desperation lending him speed. He struggled to the doorway, frantically ripping the sheets away, glancing back once to be sure of Sephiroth's position.

_Get away get away get away…_ The words raced through his dream-fogged mind.

Zack's expression rooted Sephiroth to the spot. His friend was utterly terrified, panic shining in his eyes. Alarmed, Sephiroth could do nothing but stand there, as Zack bolted for the doorway.

As the door slid open, Zack collided with Yori Markos, arriving from the opposite direction. The panicked SOLDIER immediately tried to skirt around him, but Yori reacted quickly, gripping Zack's arms to hold him still. It should have worked, in Zack's weakened condition, but the drive to flee lent him strength, and he slammed an elbow into Yori's jaw with a sickening _crack_.

The blow would have shattered the jaw of a normal human, but either Yori was not normal, or Zack was still too weak. Recovering quickly and trapping both Zack's arms against his chest, Yori swung around to pin the struggling SOLDIER against the inner wall of the medical bay. It rattled the shelves bolted there, and Yori reached past him to snatch a needle from a nearby tray. As Zack attempted to shove him away, Yori positioned his thumb over the end and plunged it into Zack's neck, injecting the clear fluid. Zack's eyes went wide, and he let out a small cry of surprised pain. Then the substance took effect, and he went limp, falling into Yori's arms.

Zack's collapse brought Sephiroth out of his shock, and he hastened forward to help lift the SOLDIER back onto the bed.

"_Zack._" What had happened? He had never seen Zack look at him like that before. Part of his mind was still in a stunned daze, replaying the events, focusing on the terror in Zack's eyes. To have had that fear directed at _him_… It hurt in a way that he had never experienced before.

"-iroth. Sephiroth." A set of fingers snapped in front of his face, and he looked up, annoyed. He realized he must have been staring at Zack for the past few moments.

"What?" The word came out sharper than he intended.

"What happened? He was not supposed to wake for several more hours."

Sephiroth's brow creased in a frown, and he glanced back down at his unconscious friend. He didn't know what had happened. He didn't know what had caused Zack to wake so early, let alone what had set him off like that. He hated to think that it had merely been the sight of Sephiroth that had terrified him so, but what else could it be? Was Zack so used to Sephiroth being that insane demon that it was an automatic reaction for him now?

What had Sephiroth _done_ to him, during all those years?

_Oh, Zack…_ Pain flashed through Sephiroth's eyes. What had he done to their friendship, the trust between them? What if it had been irrevocably damaged? Sephiroth couldn't bear the thought of it.

He shook his head. Now was not the time to dwell on it. Zack had clearly not been fully awake or aware of his surroundings; perhaps things would be better once he finally awoke. Sephiroth could only hope that would be the case.

He examined his friend again. The wounds had been torn open, blood starting to leach through the loosened bandages around his shoulder and side. Zack wore a pained expression; though unconscious, he was obviously aware of the discomfort on some level.

"His injuries need to be tended to again. Do you have something to reduce the pain?" Sephiroth's voice was impassive, betraying none of his feelings. He lifted his gaze to their host.

A flash of irritation shone in Yori's eyes for an instant, upon realizing that, once again, Sephiroth would not answer his question. "Painkillers?" It could have been Sephiroth's imagination, but he thought he caught a quick sneer of contempt pass across Yori's face, before vanishing. "…I suppose something could be arranged." He twisted and tapped a Call button set into the wall. "The medics will take care of it."

Sephiroth gazed intently at Yori, before nodding. His host was still something of a puzzle that he would need to figure out, before long.

After a moment, a bustle of noise preceded the doctor and nurse entering the small room. Sephiroth explained the situation to them, as Yori looked on. Then, after some deliberation, he chose to leave Zack with them. He needed to do some research, after all, and while Yori was here, he could show Sephiroth where the database access point was located.

Besides, it was quite clear from Zack that he was not wanted here. And Sephiroth did not want to chance a repeat of this incident when Zack next awoke, risking further injury to the young SOLDIER.

Angeal had been wrong. The truth in Zack's frightened violet eyes had stabbed Sephiroth to the core.

Sephiroth was the last person in the world that Zack needed.

* * *

_to be continued…_


	8. Lost at Sea

**Author's Note: **This will probably be the last chapter until I finish moving to my new place... I say that now, but just watch me post another one before that happens. Oh, procrastination! It keeps me from doing everything I actually need to do, yet lets me do everything I want to do. Such a horrible, horrible thing! XD

A lot of Zack's confusion in this chapter. This was really interesting to write, and somewhat difficult at the same time, trying to get it to come out just right, and stay realistic. There are also a lot of little details to remember with the characters and this story, and I'm finding that it's a bit of a challenge to remember them all to include when necessary. Hope it came out alright! The next chapter will need to be handled rather delicately.

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

**Lost at Sea**

**

* * *

**

Zack awoke slowly, feeling like he was at the bottom of a great, black ocean, weighing him down. He became aware of a familiar, steady beeping, somewhere upon the surface, and as he struggled upward, his nose was assaulted by the anti-septic smell of a sterile room.

These sensations recalled images of cold, hard tables, razor sharp scalpels, bubbling tubes of green, and long, pointed needles. His heart jumped, accelerating the beeping sound to keep pace with it, and he frantically clawed his way back to wakefulness.

_No! I can't be back here, this can't be happening…_

His eyes flew open with a gasp, rolling around the room, but the shapes and colors were smeared to a blur. Feeling a sheet tucked tightly around him, he struggled to free an arm, but they were clumsy and not moving the way they should. His panic mounted. Finally, he ripped an arm loose and managed to control it enough to shove the sheet away; it felt like his limbs were made of lead. Levering himself up, he slid roughly back against the headboard, breathing rapidly, and blinked, trying to clear his vision.

_ Come on, come on, let me _see_…_ His arms and legs weren't bound down; he prayed that Hojo would not enter the room to discover that he was awake and able to escape, and take him back instead, he didn't _want_ to go back…

Finally, the blurriness was forced away, and he beheld his surroundings. He lay on a raised bed set on one side of a small, metal room. There was shelving and a door on the wall nearest him to his right; the other side of the room was clear, with a single chair in the middle of it, and a metal counter running along the left wall and around the corner. Cabinets were bolted to the wall above the counter, and Zack spied various jars, tools, and other medical items inside. Directly across from him past the foot of the bed was a strange station that he couldn't identify – it must have had some kind of unknown medical purpose.

He shuddered. It was a lab, but not one he recognized. Had Hojo brought him somewhere else? Where were the lab assistants? The room was empty.

He became aware of a deep ache in his left shoulder, and a discomfort along his side, and glanced down to see the bandages covering his torso. So that was why he was unable to move his left arm very much… The upper part of it was bandaged to his side. He raised his other hand to his chest, running it along the coarse fabric, frowning. What had Hojo done to him this time? He couldn't remember.

Suddenly, an image flashed across his mind: a blur of black and a stab of pain, and dark red eyes that tried to suck out his soul… He winced, rubbing his shoulder. Not Hojo, then, but Jenova. Not that she was any better, but, as his memories returned, at least it meant he _wasn't_ back in the lab. He heaved a sigh of relief, the surge of adrenaline dissipating and leaving him feeling drained and lightheaded. He was also feeling slightly queasy, now that he thought about it.

Where was he? The last thing he remembered was… Oh, that's right, he was climbing up through the tunnels and leaving some kind of giant building, and it was a desolate wasteland outside… and then nothing. Where was Sephiroth?

The thought of the General jump-started his heart again, and his gaze flashed about the room, just to make sure he wasn't lurking in a dark corner. No… no, he wasn't. Good. Zack sighed again.

…But… if he wasn't here… where was he? Was he sane? Zack hoped that the fact that he was still alive would indicate that, but what if he was wrong? What had happened? Had someone found them, brought them here, wherever 'here' was? Was Sephiroth still around somewhere, or had he gone some place else? These unknowns worried him, and suddenly he was no longer content to wait here for someone to come for him.

He hated labs, anyway.

Carefully, the discomfort spiking when he moved, Zack slowly slid off the side of the bed. His bare feet hit the cold floor, and his knees buckled. He managed to grab onto the side of the bed, though, to keep from collapsing completely, and supported himself with it until his legs found their strength. Then he slowly stepped away.

He noticed that he was wearing loosely fitted white pants made out of some lightweight fabric, and that was it. And, now that he was no longer under the sheets, it was cold. Rubbing his arms, he spied a white shirt lying over the back of the chair. Assuming it was for him, he snatched it up and shrugged it on as best he could, leaving his left arm out of the sleeve. Then he fumbled with the buttons on the front, trying to do them up one-handed. He gave up after two.

Well. That was marginally better, but it was still chilly. There wasn't much he could do about it, however, so he decided to get out before someone came and told him to get back into bed.

He shuffled toward the door, feeling the world reel slightly around him. He reached it, about to set a hand against the wall to steady himself before he opened it, only to have it slide open of its own accord. He started. That was interesting.

He leaned out, looking both ways, rather paranoid at the thought of running into anyone just yet. But the hallway was clear, so he picked a direction – his left – and started down it. He didn't know where he was going, and had even less of an idea of where he wanted to end up, but any place was better than here.

Zack followed the hallway, initially trailing a hand along the white, metal wall, but soon feeling like he was able to travel well enough without the aid, and let the hand drop. After a few short minutes and turning a corner, he heard the sound of voices.

Halting and glancing quickly around him, his first instinct was to find somewhere to hide, but there was nothing – this portion of the hallway was bare. There were a few doors further down, but the voices would arrive before then, and he didn't know who might be behind the doors anyway.

A quick impulse brought his hand up over his right shoulder, only to have him grasping for thin air; his beloved sword was gone. _Idiot! Of course it is! You've been in a medical bay – they aren't going to leave it with you._ The footsteps grew closer. _What to do, what to do…_ It was insane, but a paranoid feeling was giving him the urge to bolt the other way. _What is _wrong _with me?_ Obviously, he'd be safe here, since _someone_ had been kind enough to treat his injuries.

…Unless it was ShinRa.

_ShinRa! Oh, Gaia._ Dread stole over him. What if it _was_ ShinRa? What if they wanted to finish what they'd started and kill him? Or worse, what if they sent him back to _Hojo_?

_ Nonononono, not that, not Hojo, not _ever_…!_

He had to find a way to get out of here! But no, now it was too late, and two figures were rounding the corner and heading toward him. Automatically he tensed, sending a twinge through his shoulder, and kept his head down. Maybe if he just kept walking, acting like he belonged here, they wouldn't notice!

Too late, he forgot about the medical garb he was currently wearing.

The two people, a man and a woman, glanced at him curiously as they approached. They wore a simple blue-gray uniform with a strange insignia on the arm, which Zack didn't quite catch as they passed. He caught a snippet of whispered words behind him.

"-one of the men the Captain brought aboard?"

"Probably. Looks like they released him from Sick Bay."

Relief swept over Zack when he realized they weren't going to stop and question him. They couldn't be ShinRa troops – the uniform was wrong. It sounded like he was on a ship of some kind, and that there was at least one other person also brought on board… Could that have been Sephiroth? He had to find him! Though he had no idea what to expect from the man, and it frightened him.

He paused, as a thought occurred to him. If they weren't ShinRa troops, maybe he'd be okay with asking them a few questions…

Pivoting, he called down the hallway. "H-hey!" His voice came out broken and scratchy, having been unused for a while, and he coughed. "…Uh… can you tell me where I am?" He donned a sheepish grin. "I'm a bit lost."

They stopped, turning back in mild surprise, then took a few steps back toward him.

"Yeah, you're on the ship, the _Kolidere_, captained by Yori Xan-Markos," replied the man. "…You're one of the guys he rescued, aren't you?"

Zack shrugged. "…I guess. I don't really know. I just woke up."

The woman's gaze scanned over him, taking in the bandages visible through the open gap in the shirt, and pausing at the sight of his bare feet. "…Are you sure you should be out of Sick Bay?"

Zack nodded. "As sure as I've ever been!" He gave her a charming smile. "Gave me a clean bill of health and said some exercise would do me some good." He had absolutely no intention of going back there.

"…Right…"

Zack decided to change the subject to prevent her from questioning him further. "Hey, I overheard you say there was another guy brought on board. Have you seen him? Can you tell me where he is?"

They glanced at each other, than shrugged. "Sorry," she apologized. "I don't know where he is. You might check with the Captain, though. He's on the bridge." She pointed in the direction he'd been going. "It's that way."

Zack nodded. "Alrighty! Thanks!" He started to turn, then paused as something else occurred to him. "Hey… this is a private ship, right?"

The man blinked in confusion. "Yeah, why?"

"Not ShinRa?"

His confusion deepened. What was ShinRa? "…No…"

"Great!" Zack beamed. "Thanks for the help!" And he left them standing there, looking bewildered.

Thank Gaia, he was not on a ShinRa vessel! It must be some kind of cruise ship or freighter. Maybe things were actually starting to go right for a change. Maybe they'd be able to take him and Sephiroth to a port somewhere far from ShinRa… if not Costa del Sol, then perhaps Mideel, or maybe he could go home…

…Wait a minute. Zack brought a hand to his forehead. Dang, waking up in the lab had made him completely forget that ShinRa was all but gone, and Hojo was dead. He shook his head. What was he thinking? He didn't need to hide from ShinRa anymore.

He took a moment to let that thought sink in. _He didn't need to hide from ShinRa._ He was no longer running from them with Cloud; Cloud and Avalanche had brought them down – he'd watched it himself from the Lifestream. He was alive, and he was well and truly _free_.

A slow grin spread across his face. Gaia… it felt _wonderful_! If he hadn't still been injured, he'd be bouncing down the hallway! He was totally gonna go visit Cloud, and they were going to throw the biggest party _ever_. And he was going to invite everyone he knew, even fly his parents in from Gongaga. And he'd finally be surrounded by everyone he loved, and things would be _perfect_.

…Except… what about Aerith? And Angeal? He no longer had them anymore. The smile faded as he thought. Funny how he'd been with them just a short time ago, and now that he was back among the living, he felt their loss as keenly as if it had happened just yesterday. Why did the world have to be so unfair? Couldn't he ever have everyone he cared about all at the same time?

Why couldn't they have come back too?

He sighed forlornly, as he winded his way through the halls, not really paying much attention to who he passed or where he was going.

And then there was the whole issue with Sephiroth, too. Though that should be settled just as soon as he found the man, or ran into this captain. He tried to ignore the uneasy lurch his stomach gave at the thought of the former General.

Continuing down the hallway, Zack eventually arrived at a large, dim room that opened up on either side of him. It was a dead-end; he'd come through the only doorway leading into the room. He frowned. This didn't look like the bridge… hadn't he been coming the right way?

The room was filled with round tables and chairs. Before him was a wall of large, dark windows, gently curving with the hull of the ship; along the side he'd come through, to the left of the entryway, was some kind of counter or bar. It appeared to be vacant at the moment, as was the rest of the room, which must have been the ship's cafeteria or lounge.

Zack approached the windows, whistling at the view. It was a starry night, thousands of brilliantly twinkling points of light speckling the dark sky, as if someone had strewn tiny diamonds across a velvet fabric. They were so clear and bright, much more so than any night sky Zack had seen in a long time. He almost felt as if he could reach out and touch them.

The black water below reflected the stars flawlessly, a perfect mirror. In fact, it was so still and calm that Zack was unable to tell the sea from the sky. He pressed a hand against the cold glass. It was like he was drifting amongst the stars themselves.

"It's beautiful," he whispered.

He stared for several minutes, entranced by the view. Then a faint rumbling was felt beneath his feet, and he had the slight sensation that the ship was turning. As he watched, the hazy curve of a very large, blue crescent slid into view in the water. He frowned, staring at it.

What was it? There was no way it could be the moon. Aside from the fact that it looked nothing like it, wasn't even close to the right size, the moon wasn't even out tonight. Was it something in the water, or some other kind of strange reflection? He watched, increasingly puzzled.

_ Haha, if I was floating in space, I'd almost say it looked like a planet!_ Zack grinned to himself, amused at entertaining the idea that maybe he was riding on a spaceship, like in the movies. _Pretty neat illusion!_

He watched the strange object slowly grow even larger, and as it did, his grin faded. They were right above it, it seemed, and he could make out patterns that, if he let his imagination loose, really did look a lot like clouds, oceans, and continents. He watched for the ripples in the water below to mar the surface of the object and the starry reflection, but couldn't distinguish any.

_Huh. That's pretty… weird…_

Again, the ship swung slightly to the left, and suddenly a very bright light appeared from the edge of the windows to blind him. He winced, stepping back and raising a hand against it, even as the windows darkened to compensate. What the heck? A spotlight from some kind of helicopter? It was incredibly bright!

Slowly dropping his hand, he stared outside again, completely baffled. His mind was refusing to make sense of the image. The spotlight wasn't moving, he couldn't hear the blades of the helicopter, and, for the life of him, it really did look like he was staring at a sun and planet from an orbit in space!

_No way!_ He'd lifted both hands to rest on the window, nose almost touching the glass as he stared downward in disbelief.

"Ahh, there you are. So you've finally woken."

Startled, Zack whirled toward the unexpected voice. In the doorway stood a tall figure dressed in mostly black, but with red designs on his tunic. He strode towards Zack, causing his cloak to flutter out behind him. Zack stared, glanced back once at the impossible view behind him, then returned his attention to the older man. He stepped to the side, not wanting to be cornered against the window with no escape route.

"Who are you?" Zack demanded. He was a bit shaken by things, and the man having been able to sneak up on him had not helped.

The man stopped shy, respecting the space Zack wanted. "Yori Markos. I heard you were looking for me." So, _this_ was Sephiroth's friend – Zack Fair, he had been told his name was. He was young; he must have been barely into his twenties. A shock of ridiculously spiky black hair framed his face and fell into his eyes in an unruly manner, also adding several inches to his height. His skin was pale, likely from his injury and blood loss, and the white medical outfit did not help his appearance. With some surprise, Yori noted that his eyes were purple. They were incredible, as Sephiroth's were, flecked with light. His pupils, however, were normal; Yori wondered at the difference.

Zack regarded him warily, eyes flicking over his appearance. He seemed alright, and not wearing a ShinRa uniform was definitely a plus. "Yeah…" The view was nagging at him, drawing his attention back to it. "…Where are we?"

"I assume you know by now that you're on my ship, the _Kolidere_. She's a Corellian corvette." Yori stepped toward the window, gesturing out at the blue object Zack refused to believe was a planet. "We've just arrived at Rakos V." He paused, gazing out. "Quite the view, don't you think?"

Zack followed his gaze. "…It's… We're… That's not…" He struggled for the words. "That's not a _planet_, is it?" Even as he asked, Zack felt foolish. Of course it wasn't a planet! There was just no way. It was impossible. They were on a boat in the ocean!

Yori gave him a strange look, which Zack missed. "…What did you _expect_ it to be? You're staring right at it." Honestly, these two travelers continued to make no sense to him.

There was a long moment of silence. "…You're serious."

"Quite."

Flicking a doubtful glance at Yori, Zack returned his attention to the planet. It couldn't be true. Yet, as Zack observed the sight before him, he found that he had no other explanation, for they were clearly not floating upon an ocean, no matter how smooth Zack tried to believe the water was. Little by little, the doubt drained out of him, and he came to the realization that, yes, he truly was floating above a planet in some kind of spacecraft.

The wonder of the situation returned to him. "No way…" Zack breathed, once again pressed up against the glass. "…So we're on a _spaceship_?"

"…A _star_ship, yes…" Yori frowned. If he didn't know any better, he'd almost say that this boy had never… "…Haven't you ever… _been_ on a starship before?"

Zack shook his head. "You're kidding, right? I must be dreaming! Spaceships don't exist! Well, aside from the giant rocket at Rocket Town, but ShinRa cancelled the space program, so there's _no way_…!" He turned to Yori. "How did you build something like this without ShinRa knowing? Or have I just been out of the loop so long that…?" He trailed off, catching sight of Yori's incredulous expression. "…Um… What?"

"You mean to tell me that you have _never_ flown in space before? _Never _left your home planet?"

Zack's brow furrowed in puzzlement. "…No… What do you mean, 'home planet'? Wait…" Zack grinned, finding the absurdity of the idea amusing. "You're not saying you're from another planet, are you?"

"If you're from this 'Gaia,' as your friend is, then yes. I am." Yori's mind worked furiously. Sephiroth had been able to keep it from him, but clearly these two had never known of starships and space travel before Yori's arrival. From the sound of things, their planet was still in the so-called Dark Ages, not yet having discovered the technology… So if that was the case, and the two had never left their planet, and their planet could not be the same as Dak'tar IV because there _was no civilization_ upon that planet, then _how_ in the Galaxy had they arrived upon Dak'tar IV in the first place?

Zack stared at him. "You're joking."

"No. I am quite serious."

Zack stepped back, his mind reeling. _What…? How…? When…?_ He _had_ to be dreaming! "So… you're an _alien_? I'm on an _alien spaceship_?"

Yori scowled, offended. "_No_, I am not an _alien_. I am _human_, as you are, I presume."

Zack was at a loss. "But then _how_…? We don't have the technology…!" He was having trouble absorbing everything that this man was telling him. "You're from Gaia, then…?"

Yori sighed in irritation. "No, I am _not_. Look, I picked you and your friend up from Dak'tar IV and brought you to my ship. If you've never flown before, then you must have gotten to Dak'tar IV some other way. How did you get there?" _Finally_, he would get the answers he wanted.

"Dak'tar…?" Zack shook his head. "No, we were on _Gaia_, at the Forgotten City…" No… no, that wasn't right. Zack frowned. He'd been somewhere completely different when he'd emerged with Sephiroth from the underground tunnels.

"_No_. You were on _Dak'tar IV_. _How did you get there?_" Yori demanded.

"I… I…" Slowly, Zack shook his head, stumbling back to sit in a nearby chair, as the full weight of the situation dawned on him. "I don't know. That's just where I woke up; I've been thinking it was Gaia the whole time…" They were brought to _another planet_? How could that be? Desperately, he glanced up at Yori. "You've gotta believe me. I had no idea we were on another planet! Another planet…" _Wow._ Was he sure he wasn't still asleep? "…That's just where the Lifestream dumped us…"

_Oh?_ "The 'Lifestream'?" That wasn't a term Yori was familiar with. Maybe they were getting somewhere.

Zack nodded, absently. "Yeah…" He didn't elaborate, not realizing that Yori had no idea what it was.

Yori gritted his teeth, willing himself to have patience with the boy. "What exactly _is_ the Lifestream?"

Zack blinked. "Oh… You don't know? It's the…" He cast about for a way to describe it. "The river of spirit energy inside the Planet. …Don't you have one?"

"Hmm. You mean the Force?"

"The Force?" Zack shrugged. "Sure, I guess. I dunno. Is that what you call it?" He looked back toward the window, trying to let everything sink in. It was a lot to process. Spaceships, aliens, other planets… He gradually became aware of the chill of the vacuum outside seeping through the window, and began to shiver.

A frown. "You don't know what the Force is? I take it you are not Jedi, then?"

"…Jedi? No, I dunno what that is, either." He rubbed his arms. "Look… This is a lot to take in all at once, you know?" He was overwhelmed, cold, and now that he thought about it, _very_ hungry. His stomach grumbled at him. "Do you… Do you have anything to eat around here?"

Yori regarded him impassively for a moment. He made a rather sorry sight, sitting there, trembling, in the thin clothes. Perhaps if he relented and allowed the boy to eat, he'd be more agreeable to Yori's questioning. It would be quite a shock after all, he supposed, to wake up and suddenly find you were light years from home, injured, on a strange starship.

"Of course." Yori nodded, once. "I'll send for something. I'm sure you have plenty of questions…" _As do I._ "…But they can wait until you've eaten."

Zack managed a tentative smile. "Thanks."

Yori waved a hand in dismissal, then, as the thought occurred to him, unclasped his cloak and stepped forward to drape it over Zack's shoulders. "Here. It's chilly on board." _And it wouldn't hurt to gain the boy's trust._

Surprised, Zack pulled the heavy cloak tight around him, grateful for the warmth. "Thanks!"

With a nod, Yori left to seek out some food.

Zack watched him leave, bundling into the cloak. He didn't know what to think of the man, let alone this entire predicament. It was still hard to accept. He turned to the planet outside the window.

"Rakos V, huh?"

Where was Gaia? Where was _home_?

Zack was left to his thoughts, which tumbled around in his mind like Moogles in a maze. So many questions, so many unknowns. He had no idea where to begin making sense of it all.

* * *

True to his word, Yori Markos returned with food. It had been a simple fare of crackers and cheese, with some meat – apparently Zack had been unconscious for almost two days, so it would have been unwise to consume anything heavier than that.

Despite that, it had been delicious. With some wry amusement, Zack realized that he had eaten nothing for at least four years, having been a spirit in the Lifestream, and before that only the meager rations he'd been able to scrounge up on the run, or the tasteless stuff he'd choked down for the four years in the lab.

Food was truly a miracle.

Zack had eaten in silence at first, slowly, still overwhelmed by the magnitude of everything that had happened, and trying to wrap his mind around it. Then Yori had asked him to describe where he was from. Zack had begun haltingly, finding it difficult to explain, knowing that it was another planet and he was currently sitting somewhere in the stars between one world and the next. But then he'd narrowed it down to his hometown, and, cheered by the food in his stomach, things took off from there.

He'd described Gongaga, couldn't resist laughing at the incredulous look Yori gave him when he'd told about the frogs that would turn you to one of them if you let them touch you, and went on to speak of Midgar and the two cities separated by the plate. When he grew more reserved at approaching the idea of SOLDIER, Yori broke in to speak of his own home planet.

It was a world of farms and grassland, mild, temperate weather during most of the year, but grand thunderstorms during the winter. There were babbling brooks and smooth, winding rivers where the orchards grew, and rolling hills were the livestock grazed. It was a peaceful world with just a single starport, a beautiful oasis in a galaxy that could be all too harsh.

Here, Zack's questions began. Were they – _really_ – on a spaceship? Were there a lot of other planets out there? How many were there? Did everyone own a spaceship? Could Zack get one? How long did it take to travel to another planet? Would they get to land on them and see what they looked like? Did space chocobos really exist, or was that just a myth?

…What kind of planet was Dak'tar IV and what exactly happened after Zack fell unconscious? This question marked a turning point in their conversation. Zack, finally ready to accept what he was being told, needed to address the other question prodding the back of his mind.

Where was Sephiroth?

"…Wait, you mean he's _here_? He's been here the whole _time_?"

"Yes. I believe I mentioned I picked both of you up from the planet," Yori replied, calmly.

"Well why didn't you…" Frustrated, Zack ran his hands through his hair. How could he have missed that? He must have been so distracted by everything else… "Where is he? I gotta see him. Is he…?" He trailed off, unsure if he should ask the next question. He shot an assessing gaze toward Yori. Could he ask whether Sephiroth was sane?

Yori raised an eyebrow. "Is he… what?"

Zack swallowed. "Is he… alright? I mean, he's okay and everything, right?"

Yori considered the question for a moment, sure that Zack had been about to ask something else. "…Yes. Well, aside from a handful of minor lacerations along his back, he was just fine."

"Lacerations? Huh." Zack pondered, then continued, quietly, to himself. "Must've been from Jenova… So he really did face her…"

"Jenova?" Sephiroth had neglected to mention this part. In fact, he hadn't said at all how they'd received any of their injuries. "Someone else with you down on the planet?"

"Uh… yeah…" For the first time since they'd begun talking, Zack regarded Yori with just a hint of wariness. He didn't feel comfortable discussing Jenova with him, or with anyone for that matter. That would open up a whole pen of chocobos that he just didn't want to mess with. He shrugged further into the cloak, examining the folds of the fabric. "Look, can you just take me to see him? I really… I really need to see if he's okay." His heart quickened in apprehension at the thought of finally meeting him face-to-face.

Yori watched Zack thoughtfully. "…He left you, you know."

Puzzled, Zack's gaze flew back to Yori. "Um… What?"

"He left." And Yori recounted the events that had occurred when Zack first awoke and tried to flee Sephiroth in a panic.

Zack stared at him in shock, horrified at his own actions. "I… I did? I don't remember…"

A nod. "You did. Sephiroth left after that, and has not been back to see you, except once."

"…For what?"

"That, I do not know."

Troubled, Zack bit his lip. Had he really gone nuts like that, trying to run away? How could he have _done _that? After all, he'd been wanting to save Sephiroth since the beginning of things, and to just lose it like he had… Guilt assailed his heart. If Sephiroth truly had been sane, if he'd been the old Seph, then… he must've been awfully hurt by that. Zack ducked his head, allowing his hair to fall forward and hide his eyes.

Zack had been horrible to him, but even so… a small part of him felt betrayed by Sephiroth's leaving. Shouldn't he have been there when his friend woke up? Had he really hurt Sephiroth that much that the General no longer wanted anything to do with him? Gaia, almost two days he'd been out, _surely_ Sephiroth would have forgiven him and returned?

Or maybe he wasn't the same Sephiroth he had been.

"…Zack?"

Yori's voice broke into Zack's thoughts, and he looked up. "…Yeah?"

"If you wish to see your friend, I will send for him. Perhaps you'd like me to show you to your temporary quarters, while you wait?"

"…Yeah. Sure." Zack stood, stiff muscles groaning in protest. A wave of tiredness washed over him. Man, all he wanted was to sleep – all this was just too much. First the whole spaceship thing, and then Sephiroth… and now his injuries were starting to ache more than they had been. He wondered if whatever painkiller they may have given him was beginning to wear off.

"This way." Yori indicated for him to go ahead, causing Zack to miss the satisfied smirk he wore for just a moment.

* * *

Zack was left standing in a very plain set of rooms. Similar to the halls in the ship, the walls were metal, painted white, though the lighting was dimmed, supposedly for comfort. The room he was in now was a small lounge of some kind – there was a couch built into the wall, and a small table to the side, near what he guessed was some type of miniature kitchenette. Branching off were two other rooms, each equipped with a bed and small, metal trunk, from what he could see of them. A third, narrow doorway led to what he supposed must be the bathroom.

Though small, the quarters were actually larger than he'd expected for a ship. He supposed that, being a private vessel, Yori could customize the rooms to fit his needs. Maybe he was used to having visitors on a regular basis. Or maybe these were the type of rooms everyone got.

Right now, however, he was staring at a very distinctive object sitting on the table, which sent butterflies fluttering through his stomach.

The Masamune. Or what was left of it.

So, Sephiroth shared these quarters too.

Slowly, he approached the weapon. All it consisted of was the blue-wrapped hilt and about the bottom third of the blade. He could see where the end was a jagged line, the rest of the blade having been splintered off by the blow Zack had given it. Fine, hairline cracks marred the polished surface. The blade had been rendered completely unusable.

Zack stared down at it. He reached out to touch, but hesitated. The sight of the blade made him feel cold. He was all too familiar with the way it was capable of sliding through skin and muscle and bone and _spirit_ as if they were nothing, having been on the receiving end of it more times than he could count. Yet… there was something inherently _wrong_ with it now being reduced to this sorry state. Ridiculously, he felt shame for being the one responsible.

Add that to the fact that he'd deliberately ignored the other shards of the weapon, leaving them to rust inside a cave on some derelict old planet, ensuring that the blade could never be whole again… It was unforgivable. Zack knew how much his own Buster Sword meant to him. The Masamune was Sephiroth's heart and soul.

Zack was utterly disgusted with himself. He could only imagine how Sephiroth felt upon discovering all that was left.

Abruptly, he turned away. There was nothing he could do for it now. He wouldn't even ask Sephiroth to forgive him; Zack knew he'd be hard pressed to expect it from himself had his own blade been the one broken.

At least Sephiroth sounded like he was sane. But why didn't that reassure Zack as much as it should have? This uneasiness was literally making him sick. He desperately needed something to take his mind off it.

Deliberating for a moment or two, and examining the room for the fifth time, he finally grew tired of waiting there and padded to one of the bedrooms, intent on rifling through the trunk, if there was anything to rifle through.

There wasn't. The trunk was empty. Now that he was here, however, he spied a dresser built into one corner… but that was empty too. Figures.

Fully expecting the containers in the second bedroom to be empty as well, he was surprised to find them otherwise. He stared into the open trunk, slowly sitting beside it on the bed. The items that were in it were his.

Against one side, beneath his heavy steel pauldrons, sword harness, and gloves, was his belt from SOLDIER. He gazed at the symbol, unable to quite identify the feelings that warred within him at the sight of it.

Next to it were a variety of items. His ShinRa-issued Beta armlet, still equipped with materia, was against the side, near a handful of other free materia, which Zack had carried in his pockets to quickly switch out when needed, and his small bag of Summons. In the corner, the lab key from the hated ShinRa mansion, half a Remedy, and an empty Potion bottle rested – he was disappointed to find that that was all there was, but he'd used up nearly everything else during that last battle against the ShinRa army. He shuddered, not wanting to think about it. In the other corner lay his good-luck charm – a cobbled-together mess of sting, colored beads, and a 'dragon's' claw, which had been with him since he was a boy in Gongaga – and a small amulet he'd gotten from a Moogle. A small, pale silver-blue stone – the earring he wore in his left ear – set beside it. He frowned, reaching up to tug on that ear, not having realized that it had been taken out.

The last two items gave him pause. One was a folded piece of paper, crumpled at the edges. The other was a large, white feather. Slowly he reached in to take them out, handling them almost reverently.

He took a moment to carefully smooth the edges of the feather, then, gripping it tightly, unfolded the paper. A second scrap of paper fell out into his lap. Frowning, unable to remember what it was, he set it to the side for the moment, and looked at the first one.

_ Zack,  
__How are you? I wish I knew where you were… It's already been four years now.  
This is the 89th letter that I've sent to you. But… I don't even know where to send  
them anymore. I really hope that this final letter that I am writing gets to you.  
By the way, the flowers are selling very well. They make everyone so happy—  
thanks to you, Zack!  
~Aerith_

It was the letter that the last Angeal copy, the winged, wolf-like creature that had watched over Aerith while Zack was gone, had left behind when it vanished into the Lifestream. The letter Aerith had given to the creature, hoping that it might be able to find Zack, when no one else could say where he was. It was the first indication that he'd been gone from the world for so long, and he'd kept it in the hopes that she would wait for him and that he'd make it back.

He never did.

Now he knew what the second scrap of paper would say, but pulled it open to read anyway.

_I have twenty-three tiny wishes, but you probably won't remember them all,  
__so I put them all together into one… I'd like to spend more time with you._

No name, but Zack knew who it was from. And now he'd never be able to spend more time with her.

His eyes stung, but he scowled and blinked the feeling away, flopping back onto the bed. He held the letters and the feather close. _This is stupid…_ Sure, Aerith and Angeal were dead, but it wasn't like they were gone forever. They were in the Lifestream, Zack knew that; he'd just _been_ there. It wasn't a big deal.

But if it wasn't a big deal, why did his throat feel like it wanted to close up? Why did the hot tears refuse to stay gone? If he wasn't supposed to feel this way, how exactly _was_ he supposed to feel about it all, about being sent back to life and leaving his friends behind?

What were you supposed to do in that situation? Zack wished he knew.

But he couldn't afford to get all emotional over it, not right now, not with Sephiroth supposed to show up here any minute. So he shoved the emotions away and rolled to his feet, groaning with the ache in his now throbbing shoulder and side, and hid the items safely back in his trunk. He guessed that Sephiroth himself had put them there, the last of the things he owned. He glanced around for anything else, but, aside from the Buster Sword and his boots set against one wall, there was nothing, not even the pack he'd carried that held the numerous other items and materia he'd picked up.

_Guess I was only sent back with whatever it was I had directly on me at the time. I should be grateful for even that much, I suppose… ShinRa grunts probably looted the pack, anyway._

Rubbing his eyes, Zack returned to the small living room to wait. He tested out the couch, but that only lasted for a moment before he was back on his feet and pacing the length of the room. Where the heck was Sephiroth? How long could it possibly take to find the man? It wasn't like he was inconspicuous. Couldn't they just shout something over the intercom, or something? Did the ship even _have_ an intercom?

All this waiting was doing nothing for Zack's nerves. Finally, frustrated and edgy beyond his ability to stand, he decided he'd had enough. If they couldn't find Sephiroth on their own, Zack would find him himself.

Stalking to the door, he keyed it open as he slapped the panel for the lights. But while he was occupied with that, he failed to notice the person standing just outside the door, and so smacked right into him.

Zack stumbled back with a grunt, the unexpected impact having sent a painful spasm through his shoulder.

"Sorry, I…" The words died on his lips as he finally saw who was standing there, and he froze in shock.

It was Sephiroth.

* * *

_to be continued…_


	9. We're Friends, Right?

**Author's Note:** Long time no chapter! This one was difficult to write, and had to be handled rather delicately to get it to come out right... And even so, it still didn't come out the way I planned! (I blame Zack.) I tried to keep the emotions as realistic as possible, so hopefully they're believable! Maybe after reading, you'll get a sense of why the situation was so difficult. Many thanks to LuckyLadybug for previewing the chapter for me. :) Hope you all enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

**We're Friends… Right?**

**

* * *

**

The two stared at each other for a long moment, obviously neither expecting to come face-to-face so abruptly.

Sephiroth made the first move. Glad to finally see Zack up and about, the edges of his face softened ever so slightly. He stepped forward.

"Zack-"

Almost before Sephiroth began his movement, Zack had leapt backward, the action ingrained into him over years of fighting the man. Automatically, his eyes flicked around the room, instantly noting the escape routes… the only one being through the doorway that Sephiroth was currently occupying. His entire being tensed.

Sephiroth halted in surprise, hand slightly out-stretched. Slowly, he let it drop, taking in the way Zack stood, muscles bunched, and the flash of panic in his eyes. It almost reminded Sephiroth of a wild animal, wounded and cornered, pursued by hunters.

Sephiroth felt a fragment of his heart crumble.

Studying Zack's face, he tried to read the emotions warring in his eyes. Fear, uncertainty, hope… distrust, guilt, regret. And several others too complicated to name.

_Gaia… Is this _my_ doing?_

In that moment, Sephiroth loathed himself more than any other creature, human or otherwise, that he'd ever had cause to despise. He recalled the moment in the infirmary, when a confused Zack had actively tried to escape from the room. Surely, he wouldn't do the same thing here, now that he was fully conscious? Sephiroth felt the need to brace himself in case Zack tried to bolt, but, with the way Zack's eyes were glued to his every movement, that probably wasn't a good idea. He forced himself to stay relaxed.

Lowering his eyes and releasing Zack from his likely unnerving stare, Sephiroth spoke, keeping his voice low and soothing. "Zack, I-"

He was interrupted before he could get very far.

"A-are you…" The voice was raw and shaky. "Are you… really sane?"

It was so full of disbelief and hope, and as Zack gazed at him with wounded eyes, Sephiroth wished with all his heart that he could wrap his friend in a strong, reassuring hug. But he didn't dare.

"Yes, Zack." His voice broke. "I am. …_Thank you_." He'd never meant words of gratitude so much in his entire life than he did at that moment.

Zack stared at him, beginning to tremble, ever so slightly. "I-I… I never thought you'd _ever_…" He cast his eyes skyward and ran the back of his hand across them as they started to tear up. "Gaia… is this _real_? How do I _know_?" Looking back at Sephiroth, he repeated the question. "H-how do I know that this isn't just a dream? Or a trick?"

Sephiroth was at a loss. What could he possibly say that could convince Zack that it wasn't an illusion?

"I… don't know. I'd ask you to trust-" He broke off. _Trust me._ But he couldn't rightly ask that of Zack, could he? He shrugged, helplessly, and again noted how wary eyes locked to the small movement. "…I don't have the answers anymore, Zack," he finished, his throat constricting painfully.

Zack sniffed, taking a shaky breath and blinking away hot tears. His head buzzed, his hands tingled. He was in agony. He didn't know what to say, didn't know what to do. The dream he'd clung to for so long during those endless years in the Lifestream, heck, even during the few good hallucinations in Nibelheim, was that Sephiroth would finally come to his senses, and be welcomed back by an ecstatic Zack. He'd throw his arms around his friend in the biggest glomp he'd ever given anyone, and everything would be _right_ again. Just the way things used to be.

But… things could never be the way they used to be. There was too much, and it was too late. Years… _so many years!_… of pain and _hate_ and suffering, everlasting… Zack clenched a fist, and he _hated_ the way he couldn't bring himself to hug his best friend, after longing for this moment for so, so long.

He squeezed his eyes shut. "I-I don't know if I c-can…" What? Forgive, trust, _what?_ He didn't know. He just didn't know anymore.

"Zack. I am _sorry_." _Sorry?_ Sephiroth held back a strangled bark of derisive laughter. Gaia, that word was so woefully inadequate it was pathetic. Sorry was no apology for Sephiroth's crimes. For a betrayal so deep, it had consumed his soul and the souls of all those he loved for years past when everything should have ended and things forgiven. The universe did not have a word for a regret as profound as his own.

"Can you…? No." Sephiroth shook his head. "I don't even have the right to ask for your forgiveness."

Zack opened his eyes, only to gaze upon Sephiroth's pained expression, and it broke his heart.

"S-Seph-iroth, I…" He swallowed a lump, forcing down his conflicting feelings. He didn't have the heart to see his old friend suffer, even after all that had occurred. "I-it's… alright." He tried to manage an encouraging smile, wasn't sure if he succeeded. It felt hollow.

"…Zack, you don't have to…"

"I said it's okay. I-I just… I need some time, alright?" His gaze pleaded with Sephiroth to understand.

And Sephiroth did, all too well. He nodded.

There was another moment of silence.

Then Zack abruptly whirled and fled to the imaginary sanctuary of his room.

* * *

He shook, trying to calm his rapid breathing. What was wrong with him?

_I shouldn't be… It shouldn't be like this…_

Zack paced the bedroom, running his free hand through his hair, only to grip it painfully by the roots. He'd never been so overcome, not since the day Angeal died. _The day I murdered him._

_Why?_ Why could he not just run out there and hug his friend? Several times he'd gone to the door, ready to open it, but held back each time. He just… _couldn't_.

Oh, _why_ did things have to be this way? Why did Sephiroth have to go insane? _His best friend had tried to kill him!_ One day they were pals and the next, _so_ unexpectedly, the world was consumed in fire, and there was murder in his General's eyes. _How could Sephiroth have done that!_

Zack still didn't understand. He'd rescued each and every one of Sephiroth's memories in the Lifestream, understood his longing for a family that loved him, felt his need to _know_, to understand, who he was and where he'd come from in a world full of people so different. He knew of Sephiroth's frustration with the lack of answers and the small shred of incredulous hope and fear upon glimpsing that first document in the ShinRa mansion library…

But how had he gone from that to the monster that had ripped everyone's dreams away and burnt Zack's heart to ashes?

The monster that had left Zack to rot in a lab buried beneath the knowledge and care of the world, with a young infantryman who never had a chance and who Zack had no hope of protecting from experiments that…

_ Oh Gaia… the _experiments_…_

What Zack wouldn't give to rip those poisoned memories from his soul.

Four years of steel and needles and blades of agony… Hojo had been a master craftsman, and he'd made pain into a very real and solid thing, and let it snack on them, and it _ate them alive_ while they screamed and begged and _could do nothing_.

And when Pain's hunger was temporarily diminished, but oh, it was _never_ finished, _never_ satisfied… Then they'd be given to Mako, and Mako would swallow them whole in its burning, freezing embrace, and drown them alive. And it would be the excruciatingly slow death of a thousand souls that gradually crept through the mind and whispered words without sounds and ideas without meaning. And the time spent with Mako would last an eternity, until you felt you must be as old as the Planet, for you were certainly weary enough… But Mako was always older, deeper, always _more_ than you were, uncomprehendingly so, and incessantly pressed that upon you, even as it drained you away to nothing.

And then, when there was nothing left, Pain would be hungry again.

And then you'd wish that there really had been nothing left.

And Sephiroth had left him there. At the moment that Zack needed him most, the one time Zack needed his hero to rescue him more than any other… he was gone.

When Zack and Cloud escaped, and the nightmares began – for when had they ever truly ended since that red night in Nibelheim? – they still hadn't been safe. ShinRa pursued them, hunted them like _animals_, until Zack grew to fear corners and open spaces, daylight and moonlight, sharp noises and silence.

It was like that for a year. A whole _year_ of freedom and fear, hope, uncertainty, desperation and dreams… A year of _Whys?_ and _Hows?_ and _Whens?_ and _What Ifs?_… And at the end of it all, salvation had been _taken_.

And given.

And taken again, and there were at least four more years of torture of a different sort. This time, directly at Sephiroth's hands.

Nine years. Nine _years_ since Zack's friend vanished and given him a monster in his place.

But Sephiroth was sane now.

_ Gaia… he's really sane._

It was about time.

_ It's too late._

Finally.

_ What if it's a trick?_

The nightmare had ended.

_ Had it really?_

_ What do I do now… Sephiroth?_

_ Can I forgive that easily?_

You always forgive…

_Not always. Not since…_

Hojo.

_ …What I want… _so much_… is to call you… my friend._

Seph.

_Seph…iroth. Seph…_

_ Sephiroth._

_We're friends. …Right…?_

* * *

For a long time, Sephiroth sat in the small living room. Had anyone been there, he might have seemed a statue, for all he moved.

He felt numb. Zack's reactions were not surprising; in fact, considering everything, Sephiroth supposed he'd taken things rather well. But even so… it hadn't gone the way he'd expected. Or perhaps he should say it hadn't gone the way he'd _hoped_. He hadn't known what he expected; indeed, hadn't really expected anything. He would like to think he hadn't been foolish enough to hope for anything either, but clearly, a small part of him had.

It had been the small part of him that had awoken, years ago, when he'd first understood the value of friendship.

It was strange to think that, after many years of calling Genesis and Angeal friends, and then the short, but vibrant years of Zack bouncing into his life, that all of it had been given up in a single wretched night.

He supposed that the tapestry of his life had begun to fray at some point, when his friendship with the other Firsts had become strained. And, little by little, it must have unraveled. As time went on, he supposed, he must have lost something critical of himself. Though he thought he had begun to become whole again, once he had Zack. …But maybe, there was still a part of himself, his most inner doubts and questions, that he'd never revealed to the young SOLDIER, and so never received help for. Likely, he'd tried to ignore it all, until it was too late.

And Jenova? It was strange, but Sephiroth's pride refused to allow himself to foist all the blame upon her, when it was clearly Sephiroth's own hidden darknesses that she preyed upon. But at the same time, Sephiroth found it impossible to believe that he would have completely lost his senses if she hadn't been goading him, whispering at him from the corners of his mind.

If he'd never gone to Nibelheim, would things have turned out differently?

To believe that…

_It would be the cause of madness of a different sort_, he thought, dryly.

No, he would not waste time with What Ifs. Truthfully, even before Nibelheim, he'd begun to feel that something was wrong. If anything, with Jenova's insidiousness, she would have continued to act from the shadows, and, Nibelheim or no, _something_ would have happened. _Something_ would have had to give at some point.

And who's to say that it wouldn't have turned out worse than it had, if that was even conceivable?

_Hmph._ Of course, _that_ line of thinking would make it sound that Jenova held most of the blame.

Perhaps, trying to identify the true culprit was pointless, after all. In the end, Jenova and Sephiroth had been the same. And Sephiroth would forgive neither.

_Now Hojo…_ He was a different matter entirely. Zack had once said that he blamed Hojo for everything that went wrong. If the computer was acting up, it was Hojo's fault. Elevator stuck? Hojo. Flower wilted? Hojo had glanced at it. Cafeteria food taste funny? Hojo!

…Perhaps the cafeteria food wasn't actually that much of a stretch, now that Sephiroth thought about it.

In any case, there could be no doubt that Hojo was the root of all their problems. Or had been, at any rate, for he was dead now as well, and his soul consumed in Sephiroth's own black scheming.

He allowed himself to feel a small amount of satisfaction at that knowledge.

He sighed. None of that helped the current situation, however. He dearly wished he knew what to do for Zack. But with himself the source of all Zack's turmoil, that was impossible.

_Take heart, Seph, because this isn't gonna be easy. For either of us._

Sephiroth frowned. Where had he heard _that_? It sounded like Zack's words, but…

Ahh. The memory Zack had said that to him. Sephiroth wished he could go back and speak with that Zack, ask for advice… but then, would it really do any good? That Zack had said himself that he was merely a part of Sephiroth, so didn't know anything that Sephiroth didn't already know. But even so, to speak with someone about it, even if it was another aspect of himself, would be immensely helpful.

Even better if Angeal appeared again.

Sephiroth glanced at the door to Zack's room. He'd been in there a long time… How long should Sephiroth wait? He didn't want to rush his younger friend, but didn't want Zack to think he was being avoided, either.

…If it had been Sephiroth who was upset and unsure, what would Zack do about it? If he couldn't actively comfort his friend for fear of it not going well, but would not leave his friend alone either, what would he do?

Well, that was easy. Zack would simply be there, waiting to lend an ear, showing support by his very presence. He wouldn't ignore anyone, but wouldn't force himself upon them either, making sure that his door was always open. He'd probably do his best to act like his normal, cheerful self, while still recognizing the problem and making sure the other knew that it would be okay.

So that's what Sephiroth would do. Well, minus the "cheerful self" part.

And the first order of business was to make sure Zack's injuries had finally finished healing. He'd used a single, low-level Cure a while ago, once he'd been sure that Zack's shoulder blade had been properly pieced together, to accelerate the healing process while at the same time avoiding the stress a high level Cure might put on his body. It was time to finish the job.

Slowly, the General stood and walked to the door. Hesitating for the barest of moments, he rapped softly on it.

"Zack? …May I come in?"

There was a long pause.

"…Sure." It was quiet, hesitant.

The door slid quietly open, and Sephiroth found Zack sitting on the side of the bed, twirling a white feather between his fingers. He approached, moving to sit beside his friend, but keeping a comfortable distance between them. He was mindful of the way Zack tensed at his presence.

"…That was Angeal's, wasn't it?"

"…Yeah. …I found it the first time he showed me his wings."

"You kept it all this time?"

Zack shrugged. "I wanted something to remind me of him. …Though Angeal always said that wings were the mark of a monster."

"…Do you believe that?"

"…'Wings symbolize freedom for those who have none.' I used to believe that."

"And now?"

_Those wings… I want them too._ "…I still do."

Sephiroth fell silent for a few minutes. This was still very difficult. "…Zack…"

"…Hey, how long 're we gonna beat about the bush?" Sephiroth glanced up at Zack, who finally raised his eyes to meet Sephiroth's own. The tension was still visible in the young First, but there was a smile there too. It didn't quite reach his eyes, it was small, but it was still genuine. "You know… I'm glad… _really_… that you're finally you. You don' know how _long_…" His voice cracked, and he hid it behind a cough. "…I've… I've been waiting."

Sephiroth allowed a sad smile of his own, and reached to lay a hand on Zack's shoulder. He froze for an instant at the way Zack's shoulders bunched just slightly, and noted the flash of guilt across his face. He continued the gesture anyway, but removed his hand after a short moment, not wanting to force too much upon his friend.

"I'm proud of you, Zack."

Surprised at the unexpected compliment, Zack's eyes widened. "…Really?"

Sephiroth nodded. "I know that I can never understand everything you've been through. But to push through it all, and the way you found me in the Lifestream… No one else could have done that, Zack. I would not have blamed you had you left me behind. In fact, I cannot understand why you did not, after everything…" He trailed off. "…But I am profoundly grateful for what you've done."

Zack stared at him, at a loss. "I… It wasn't anything, really…"

"It was _everything_, Zack."

The young SOLDIER gazed at him, tormented eyes finally taking the time to see, _really see_, the way his features were relaxed, though sad, not twisted with the madness of the past nine years, the way the emerald eyes were clear and free of the hate that had possessed him so, reflecting only a deep regret. The way his mouth quirked up ever so slightly in the smallest of smiles, sad, yet sincere, echoing the kindness in his eyes.

"…_Gaia_, Seph… It's really you…" The barest hint of incredulity colored his voice.

A firm nod. "Yes." The use of the nickname never sounded so good to his ears.

Zack let out a cry of mixed joy and grief and threw himself across the bed into Sephiroth's arms. _This_ was the Sephiroth from Zack's memories, those of so long ago that he'd never thought he'd see him again. It was the Sephiroth that Zack had fought for, searched for, the one he'd never truly given up on even when he believed he had, the one that had defended Zack against his own evil doppelganger.

Sephiroth caught him and held him tight, his own eyes tearing up. "Gaia, I am _so_ sorry, Zack."

Zack shook his head. "No, it's my fault… _my_ fault… I should've known what was happening and done _something_…"

"Done what? There was nothing you could have-"

"_I should have been able to!_ Stayed with you or dragged you up outta there… Burned all the books or killed Jenova…"

"You couldn't have known what would happen."

"I should've! I knew something was wrong! I _knew_!"

"_Zack_. Enough," Sephiroth commanded gently, but firmly. "This isn't doing any good."

"…But…"

"No." And when Zack tried to protest again, Sephiroth simply tightened his arms around his friend, letting his chin rest upon the soft spikes of his hair.

They stayed like that for several minutes, until Zack's ragged breathing calmed, and his good arm loosened its hold upon Sephiroth. There was still a tension running through the young man's body, though, so Sephiroth slowly pulled away to see the exhaustion and pain clouding Zack's eyes. He frowned.

"Did the doctor clear you to leave the infirmary?"

Zack glanced away, guiltily. "…Sort of." He hadn't been there to say Zack _couldn't_ go, after all.

Sephiroth was skeptical. "Zack…"

"It was a _lab_, Seph." Zack shot him a rather accusatory stare, as if he should have known. "I wasn't about to stick around."

Sephiroth sighed, then nodded his acceptance. "Alright. But you need to rest. After I finish healing your injuries."

Zack rolled his eyes. "I've got a Restore. I can do it myself." He began to stand, heading for the Buster propped up in the corner, but Sephiroth stopped him.

"No, you can't."

"What-"

"You don't have the energy. You'll exhaust yourself even further." He pulled his own Restore from a pocket. "I'll do it."

Zack let out a long sigh. "Fine." He slipped off Yori's cloak, and proceeded to unbutton and shrug out of the thin shirt when Sephiroth motioned for him to do so, revealing the layers of bandages wrapped around his chest and abdomen.

Carefully, Sephiroth prodded at Zack's side and shoulder, seeking to determine how well they'd healed so far, but only succeeded in causing Zack to squirm in discomfort.

"Hey, you gonna use that materia or not?"

"Be patient," Sephiroth murmured, unwrapping the bandages to get a better look at the injuries. Zack grumbled but allowed him to work.

When the bindings had been stripped away, Sephiroth examined him critically. He friend was thinner than the General remembered, but that was to be expected. The gash in Zack's side had begun to knit shut, likewise with the wound in his shoulder, and the cut along Zack's neck was no longer of any concern. It was as he'd expected from the low-level Cure he'd cast, and the Mako in Zack's system going to work. He'd follow up with a stronger spell, now that Zack was ready for it, and that should be the end of things.

Resting his palm lightly against the most grievous of the wounds, Sephiroth fingered the Restore, reaching inside to pull out the magic. He felt it flow around and through him as the materia's soft glow brightened, and directed it along his arm and into his friend. The glow surrounded Zack for several moments, soothing the pain and relaxing taut muscles, then finally sunk into the wounds. They mended together, fading away.

Zack sighed in relief, feeling his eyes shut. He slumped forward.

Sephiroth caught him. "Zack, come on, stay awake just a bit longer." He pushed his friend back into an upright position.

Zack mumbled something, which sounded very much like, "What for?" causing Sephiroth to smile slightly in amusement.

"I need to ensure everything's healed properly." He propped Zack up, until his friend had stirred himself awake enough to help out. Then he proceeded to inspect his healing efforts.

The wounds had all but vanished, leaving only thin red marks as any indication that they'd been there. Another Cure would clear those up, but it was unnecessary, as they'd fade on their own. He pressed lightly on them, making sure there was no more pain.

"Do you feel anything?"

"No… 'm fine…"

Sephiroth nodded in satisfaction. Then he frowned, suddenly noticing other marks upon Zack's skin.

Along both arms, faint but still noticeable, were tiny white pinpricks and thin lines, crisscrossing the skin. They were very straight and precise, almost surgical in nature…

Sephiroth's blood ran cold.

It was Hojo's work. And the very presence of the scars indicated that there had been no materia used to heal them.

His eyes flicked over the rest of Zack's skin, noting similar marks, long cuts, having been inflicted across Zack's entire torso. Without looking, he knew that Zack's legs would likely bear the same scarring. Sephiroth gritted his teeth. There was no punishment great enough for Hojo's sins.

Something else caught his eye, more distinct from the rest of the scarring. A narrow scar ran from the inner edge of Zack's right collarbone, at a steep, diagonal angle across his chest.

_ I have been chosen to rule this Planet._

Sephiroth jerked his hand back as if burned. This was the very injury he'd inflicted on Zack during their duel in the Nibelheim reactor… the one that finished the battle and sealed Zack's fate.

And directly over Zack's heart, another mark, that of a thin, white diamond… With growing apprehension, Sephiroth moved around Zack to look at his back. The same mark appeared there, distinct among additional pale scars. He raised a hand to trace its shape.

_ Look upon your fate, and despair._

It was the wound Sephiroth had dealt Zack in the Lifestream, the one piercing straight through his heart. Sephiroth's hand trembled.

Why was it even visible? It hadn't been an injury to Zack's physical body – he hadn't possessed one in the Lifestream.

No, it had simply been inflicted upon his soul.

_His soul…_ For the mark to be visible now, upon Zack's _body_… It must have wounded him incredibly deeply.

"Hey… Somethin' wrong?" Zack asked in a sleepy voice, craning his neck to look over a shoulder. He'd been largely unaware of all that Sephiroth was doing, but had felt his hand shake upon his back.

Sephiroth shook himself back to the present. "No." It wouldn't do to let his friend in upon his thoughts, not yet. He transferred his fingers to Zack's newly healed shoulder blade, seeking any discomfort. Upon hearing no protest, he carefully prodded the area. In response, Zack twisted slightly and shrugged the shoulder, pushing back. Sephiroth's brow quirked in amusement.

"Done yet?" Zack yawned.

"Yes. Everything seems… alright." _Nothing is alright. _"Get some sleep."

"Finally!" Zack fell back onto the pillow. Sephiroth helped him beneath the covers.

As Sephiroth caught sight of Zack's bare feet, he sighed in exasperation. "Zack, didn't you find the slippers?"

"…What slippers?"

"The ones I left next to the chair."

"…No…" Mumbling something else, Zack snuggled into the pillow, eyes half-lidded.

Sephiroth grunted. "I left them in a perfectly good place. You just weren't paying attention."

There was another tired mumble, which sounded like, "Bare feet are better anyway," and Zack was fast asleep.

Sephiroth took a moment to finish tucking in his friend, then stepped back, considering the quiet form.

The quiet, _living_ form, breathing peacefully under the covers. Zack had been through so much, suffered so much pain. The cruel reminders of it were laced not only across his body, but through his very soul, too.

Sephiroth was glad that his friend had been able to accept his presence, but he could not believe that that was the end of things. There had been a shadow hidden behind Zack's eyes, and Sephiroth suspected that the tension in his body had been due to more than the pain of his injuries. He just hoped that they'd be able to work through things as they cropped up.

Sephiroth paused as he was about to turn and exit the room, catching sight of the black cloak on the floor. Frowning, he bent to pick it up. He recognized it as Yori's… The man had mentioned that he'd run into Zack, and Sephiroth supposed it was believable that Yori would have given his friend the garment, considering how perpetually chilly it was on the ship. But something about it didn't sit right with him; he would almost have preferred Yori not give Zack the cloak at all.

Shaking his head at the ridiculous feeling, Sephiroth palmed off the lights, taking the cloak with him, and headed into the living room. He had much thinking to do.

* * *

_to be continued..._


	10. The Shadows of Daybreak

**Author's Note:** Well, this chapter was a long time in coming ... I have to admit, I was stuck for a while, without much inspiration to get it started. But I finally broke down and made up an outline for the remainder of the storyline so I knew where I was going. Trust me, it helps a lot! But even so, this was a difficult chapter to start. I ended up abandoning my original beginning scene in favor of what I have now, because it did absolutely nothing for the chapter.

Figuring out the initial interactions for Sephiroth and Zack was also quite the challenge. But I hope they've turned out well! I really tried to keep things realistic, as usual.

On a side note, FF(dot)Net gets an Uncool Point for not allowing the use of more than one punctuation mark (like an exclamation point and a question mark). So, if any sentences seem strange with the punctuation they have, try imagining both there. Two punctuation marks are an acceptable form of ending a sentence in literature, thank you very much, FF(dot)Net.

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

**The Shadows of Daybreak**

**

* * *

**

_ Why!_

The scream echoed through the darkness, anguished, heartbroken, and utterly confused.

_ Why, Sephiroth? Why did you do it?_

_ Gaia, Seph, all those people … They never did _anything_, and you just murdered them all, in their homes, every last one … How _could_ you! How could …_

_ What _happened_ to you? My b-best friend … I don't … I don't get it. What did you find in that library that made you hate us? That made you hate me …_

_ I guess it must've been something absolutely horrible, because I … I just don't see how anything could have made you want to … to …_

_ I didn't _want_ to fight you, Seph! I never did. But after what you did … How could I not? How could I just let you go? Fighting you was the hardest thing I've ever done in my entire life. Even after killing Angeal … That didn't even compare. I couldn't believe it … Even as I choked on the smoke and fire, even as I walked up those steps, even as I turned my blade against you … None of it was real. It wasn't happening, _couldn't_ be happening …!_

_ But … but somehow, it was. _

_ I wanted so badly to wake up. I wished … I wished with every fiber of my being that I would open my eyes and see you there with that concerned look on your face, and I would laugh about walking back in the rain one too many times and about the crazy nightmare it caused …_

_ I tried to wake up. Oh, how I tried, _so hard_, to open my eyes …_

_ But I couldn't._

_ Was it this _Jenova_, Seph, that made you do it? Did you really think she was your _mother_?_

_ What weakness struck you that you would actually believe that? It's … it's insane. I just don't know …_

_ And even if you did believe that, _why_ would it make you do such a thing? Wasn't there something you could have told me? Was there something I should have done? I wish you'd said something …_

_ I wish … Oh, Gaia …_

_ Did you know … you killed me on that day, Sephiroth? What you did to me … it tore out my heart. _

_ Well, my body's still alive, I think … If you can call _this_ living. _

_ I _did_ wake up from that nightmare … But what I woke up to … I wish I was still dead. _

_ Everything's green … I … Gaia, this can't be happening …_

_ I woke up … in a _tube_, Seph! It's filled with Mako! It's not even possible to survive in here, is it? And Hojo … Hojo's on the other side! _

_ What does he think he's doing? He won't let me out! But I'm a SOLDIER! I'm with ShinRa! He can't _do_ this! They'll stop him … Someone's got to come and stop him! He can't _really_ keep me here, can he?_

_ You aren't gonna leave me with him, are you, Seph? You can't … He's mad. I dunno what he's gonna do, but …_

_ I don't want to be here! I just wanna go home … Why won't they let me …_

_ Why, Sephiroth? Why did it come to this!_

_ My best friend … my life … Nibelheim … everything … is gone._

_ Seph … _

_ Why did you do it?_

_

* * *

_

Zack abruptly woke with a gasp, his eyes flying open. He lay there for a moment, staring at the darkened bulkhead of the ceiling, the erratic rhythm of his breathing loud in his ears. Remnants of the dream ran through his mind.

_ … I still don't … understand why. _

With a shake of the head, he rolled to the side, sitting up and rubbing his eyes … and paused at the feeling of wetness on his cheeks.

_… What? … Tears …?_ Annoyed, he scrubbed them away. _Man, that dream must've affected me more than I thought. Get over it, Zack. It's over._

_It's really over …_

He sat for a moment, trying to let the concept sink in. Then he gave himself a good pinch. There was a sharp pain and, satisfied that he probably wasn't still dreaming, he rubbed his arm and slowly stood, stretching. Despite the dream, he had to admit that he felt … good. Really good, no aches or pains, and completely refreshed, something he hadn't truly felt since …

_ Yeah, don't wanna think about it._

Seph always could work wonders with a Restore materia. And speaking of Seph …

Padding into the small living room, Zack, rather cautiously, poked his head around the corner to see into the other bedroom.

It was empty. A quick check of the rest of the quarters did not reveal the man, either. Zack frowned.

_Where would he have gone?_

Despite wanting to know where Sephiroth was, Zack was somewhat relieved that he didn't have to face him right away. It was strange … What was he supposed to do – what was he supposed to say? – to someone who'd caused so much pain and suffering? Last night was … well, it was a start, but where was he supposed to go from there? He felt confident enough that Seph was no longer insane, but … could he really just go back to what they used to be before? Was it really that easy?

At least he'd have the chance to collect himself and freshen up before going to find the man. He felt … off, somehow, as if the universe had yanked a rug out from underneath his feet, and he was still stumbling along, trying to catch his balance.

He was still in something of a daze through the quick shower. He slowly ran his hands along the numerous surgical scars that lined his arms and chest, really noticing them for the first time in a long time. Most of them had memories attached to them, procedures that he had still been conscious for …

Tracing a long, pale line along the inside of his left forearm, Zack mused, _That one was where Hojo wanted to find out whether …_ Abruptly shaking his head, he stopped the memory in its tracks, before the flash of horror could overwhelm him. _Don't need to think about it._

Angrily, he stepped from the shower, running a quick towel through his hair. _What was it all for? Did Hojo even have a point with everything? What did he do, that I don't know about?_

Deciding he didn't want to dwell on it, he glanced in the mirror and attempted to straighten his mess of hair by combing his fingers through it. It was longer than he normally wore it, falling to the middle of his shoulder blades, and ragged from his attempt to cut it once on the run with Cloud, when he'd finally gotten fed up. There'd been no chance to cut it during the labs, after all. He remembered the feel of the thick Mako clinging to it and weighing his head down every time they took him from the tube, and shuddered. Maybe he'll cut it short this time.

Frowning, he considered his reflection. Was this really the image of someone who'd been experimented on for four years, died, and then came back to life? You couldn't tell, if you ignored the scars. Aside from the hair, he looked the same as he had before leaving for Nibelheim. Leaning closer, he gazed into his eyes. Yep, still purple! They'd been bright green when he'd first escaped from the tanks, so bright that they'd illuminated the darkened rooms of the mansion like a small flashlight. He remembered having to close his eyes at times and navigate solely by sound, in order to not give away his, and Cloud's, position.

It had been rather unnerving just how successful he'd been at doing that.

Idly, he wondered how old he was supposed to be now. Did the four or five years he'd spent in the Lifestream count? What about the four years as Hojo's guinea pig? He wasn't sure he'd aged at all during that time. Maybe all that Mako had done something to him.

If you counted all the years, he'd be … about twenty-seven or twenty-eight. Though he still looked eighteen, his age when everything had come to an end.

Zack shook his head. It didn't matter anymore, anyway. In fact, he was going to do his best to forget, all of it. He refused to let it weigh him down! He was going to bring back that optimistic part of himself that had so often gone into hibernation during the past. It was time to start over again.

Strolling back to his room, he donned the only clothes he seemed to have at the moment – the white garments the medical bay had left him with. He noticed a set of white slippers on the floor this time, and smirked – Seph had probably gone to fetch them from where he'd missed them earlier.

He shoved his feet into them and headed for the door. He'd have to ask Seph where his uniform had gone to – he certainly didn't want to parade around in this all day! Besides, the thin material didn't do much to keep away the chilly air.

Zack wandered for a good thirty minutes before finally finding Sephiroth in a moderately sized room occupied by several computer terminals and desks. He would have been there sooner had he not stopped at almost every open doorway to gaze, fascinated, at all the strange machinery and activities beyond them, and every window to peer out onto the incredible star-speckled blackness of space.

_ So this is what a spaceship is like … Just … wow._

Seph currently faced away from him, occupied with something on the computer. Information and images scrolled across the screen, illuminating his face. Zack had meant to saunter into the room as normal, but the sight of his friend sitting there made him pause at the doorway.

It was … surreal. After so long, to see him sitting there, normally, as if it was just another day at the office … it was both wonderful and frightening, all at once. He'd been gone for so many years. All Zack had known had been questions and doubt and horror, fear and hatred … He would have never thought he could hate Seph for anything, but he had come to, for what he'd done, for what he had allowed himself to become. It was … dark, the pit that Zack had fallen into.

He felt that black creature stir in his heart and pushed it away. Seph was _back_. Those days were _over_. He wasn't going to think about them anymore. He _wasn't_.

Yet … he hesitated, as he gazed at the back of Sephiroth's head, watching the light glint off his silver hair. He didn't know how to approach him.

He didn't know how long he stood there, but abruptly, Sephiroth turned to face him, perhaps alerted by some sixth sense, and he stared into the cool, green eyes.

_They froze him, burning into him, peeling back the layers until his soul was exposed, bare and vulnerable before those eyes. Thin lips twisted in scorn at what they saw, making Zack want to curl up and die in shame. And then the smooth blade of steel slid into his heart, cold and hard, and he gasped in agony …_

"… Zack? Are you alright?"

Zack started, realizing that Sephiroth had been speaking to him for a few moments now. He shook his head, banishing the memory.

"Yeah … No, I'm fine." Sephiroth was now standing, not bothering to hide his concern. "So, uh …" Zack trailed off, not sure what he was planning to say.

"… Did you sleep well? You've been out for another full day." Sephiroth watched him closely, trying to pick up on any cues that would let him know how Zack was really feeling.

_Really? That long?_ "Huh. Yeah, I guess. I feel fine. Great, actually." There was a pause. "Uh … thanks for the Restore …"

Sephiroth nodded. After another moment of examining the young SOLDIER, he gestured to a chair next to him. "Come, sit. There's a lot we need to go over … if you feel up to it."

Sephiroth noticed an instantaneous flash of panic move through Zack's eyes, before it was gone, replaced by caution. Warily, Zack glanced around the room and back out the hallway, before hesitantly advancing to take the chair. He moved it so he would be facing both the rest of the room and the open doorway simultaneously, then slowly sank down. Sephiroth frowned at the actions, wondering if they were due to his presence or something else.

Zack remained tense, as he watched Sephiroth. What did he want to talk about? Probably about what had happened, Nibelheim and all … but what would be the point? What could he do, apologize? He'd done that already, hadn't he? And Zack didn't want to talk about it, not yet. It was too soon … He was afraid he'd break down, or blow up, or … or … something, he really wasn't sure. He just didn't know how you recovered from something of that magnitude.

If only it hadn't happened … Couldn't they just move on?

"Zack … I …" Sephiroth hesitated, trying to determine how best to begin. "I want to apologize again. I know my words are too few and too shallow to make any sort of amends … but they're all I have to offer."

"Seph, I already said you don't have to, I mean, it's my fault just as much as yours-"

Sephiroth held up a hand. "Just … hear me out, Zack. I don't want you to accept my apology, not yet. Not until you've had the time to think about it."

Zack swallowed. He didn't _want_ to think about it.

"I will give you your space, as much as I can. I don't expect us to be … as close as we once were, much as I would wish it. I know it will take time to repair the damage that-" Sephiroth clenched a fist. "-I've caused."

"Seph …"

"If I could, I would leave and allow you the time to get your life back in order, but, as things stand now, we don't exactly have that option. However, if you wish …"

"Damn it, Seph!" A fist crashed down upon the desk, rattling it and startling the General. He stared at Zack; clearly the young SOLDIER had been startled too. Zack blinked, then his eyes dropped, sliding to the floor. "Look, I …" he began, quietly. "… I know you're just as upset about things as I am. So quit talking like I'm the only one affected. Yeah, sure, things'll be as awkward as heck for a while, but …" He raised his eyes again. "We can work through them, right? Just … don't try to avoid me, 'cause you somehow think it's better for me. I didn't go through everything just for you to walk away."

_Just … don't forget me, okay?_

Sephiroth considered him for a moment, then allowed himself a small smile, and nodded. "Alright."

"… So … still friends, right?" Zack gave him a hesitant smile, looking at him with hopeful eyes.

His own smile softened. _Absolutely._ "Yes, Zack. Still friends."

Zack beamed, and as silence fell between them, his attention was drawn to the images on the computer screen. "… Whatcha got there?"

It seemed now was as good a time as any to explain things. "Hm. You are aware that we are no longer on Gaia, correct?"

Zack blinked. "Uh … yeah. Yeah! We're on a spaceship, right? That's what Yori said. Can you believe it? I'm still not sure I can …"

A nod and a small, amused smirk. "What else did he tell you?"

Zack shrugged. "He told me about the planet we landed on and how we got here. And about his home planet … That was pretty much it, really."

"And what did you tell him?"

"Oh … a bit about Gaia, I guess. Told him about Gongaga and Midgar."

"That's it? Anything about ShinRa or SOLDIER?"

"Nah … I didn't really feel like talking about them. … Why? What's going on?"

Sephiroth hesitated, trying to determine the best way to express his concerns, as vague as they were. "I'd rather keep Markos in the dark about our planet, and SOLDIER, as much as possible. Though he did rescue us from Dak'tar IV, we really don't know anything about him. I'm not sure how much he can be trusted."

"… But if he couldn't be trusted, why did he rescue us? I dunno, I thought he seemed alright."

"I … don't know. Call it a feeling."

"A feeling, huh?" Zack shook his head, amused. "Well, alright. I guess if your Sephiroth-senses are tingling, there must be something to it!"

Sephiroth grunted in response, though was privately glad to see that Zack felt comfortable enough to crack a joke.

"How _did_ we get here, anyway? We were in the Forgotten City, last I remember! I still think I must be dreaming."

Sephiroth shook his head. "I wish I knew. The best I have been able to figure out is that the Lifestream must have brought us here, somehow. Though where 'here' is in relation to Gaia …" A shrug. "That's something I have yet to figure out." He went on to explain his theories that either Gaia was another planet, some unknown distance away, or that Dak'tar IV was indeed Gaia, placing them either in the future, the past, or some alternate reality. That was, unless something drastic had happened to the planet between their last battle and the time they awoke.

"… Wow, and I thought _I_ watched too many science fiction movies."

"Hmph. Do you have any other explanation?"

"… Well, no. But still, you've gotta admit that all that sounds pretty crazy."

"Insanity seems to be the rule of the day, lately," Sephiroth commented, wryly.

Zack gave a humorless chuckle. "Isn't that the truth. … So, how do we get home?"

Sephiroth gave him a look. "You know as well as I do what the answer to that is."

"Let me guess … No idea?"

"Indeed."

Zack stared at the tabletop, running a thumb along its edge. This wasn't exactly how he had hoped to come back to life. Not that he knew it would occur in the first place, but one would think that he could have at least been put down on his own home planet. Now there'd be no more visiting Cloud. Angeal and Aerith somehow seemed so much farther away. He vaguely remembered Aerith's voice receding into the cold distance, and now thought he knew why. He shivered.

"Well … guess that's not _so_ bad. I mean, who wouldn't want to fly a spaceship and visit other planets, right?" He attempted to force some optimism into his voice.

Sephiroth laid a hand gently upon Zack's shoulder, causing the young man to start. "We'll find a way back, Zack. I promise."

Zack brought his eyes up to meet Seph's, as the other SOLDIER removed his hand. "Yeah," he grinned, half-heartedly. "I know." Then he frowned as something occurred to him. "Why don't we just go back to Dak'tar IV? Maybe something there will help tell us where we are or how we got here. If anything would hold the answers, that planet would, right?"

His friend nodded. "I would think so. But, according to Yori, we are prevented from returning just yet by the presence of a group called the Imperials."

At Zack's perplexed expression, he continued, gesturing to the computer screen. "While you were recovering, I've been doing as much research as I could about this area, and the state of its government. Believe it or not, we are now looking upon things at a galactic scale. It is not only a single planet we need to concern ourselves with, or even a solar system … but the _entire_ galaxy.

"The leading government, until relatively recently, was the Galactic Empire. It didn't control the whole galaxy – there are still large pockets of space either unexplored or under the control of other governments, much like ShinRa and Wutai, respectively, on our own planet – but it remained the most powerful government controlling the majority of space. Twelve years ago, many of the star systems rebelled, and overthrew the Emperor. He was killed, but as you can imagine, the Empire was far from dead."

Sephiroth shook his head. "To make a long story short, the rebels established their own government, the New Republic, and the two factions have been battling it out ever since. The Imperials – members of the ruling Empire – have been pushed out of many of the systems they used to control. It seems that they've fragmented for the most part, but are still a dangerous force to be reckoned with.

"It was they who also landed on Dak'tar IV, and who Yori insists that we need to stay away from. I won't say that I fully understand his reasons, but if they are truly dangerous to us, then it is clear that Yori's ship would not be able to survive a direct confrontation with them. Their ships are simply too powerful and too many."

Sephiroth paused to allow Zack to process everything he'd said.

"Wow … So … we're in the middle of a war? Which side is the good guys?"

"I don't know enough yet to say. According to the rebels, the Empire was evil and corrupt. You know as well as I do what such an organization will do. Yet, we also know that the majority of the organization can still be good. And we know the reckless destruction and death that a "rebellion" can cause. Often, they are nothing more than terrorists, regardless of how noble they believe their own cause to be."

Zack nodded, slowly, thinking of the horrible damage and needless death that the eco-terrorist group AVALANCHE had caused under their leader Elfé. He knew ShinRa had its faults, but it had never warranted what AVALANCHE had done. Had the President merely been replaced with someone more capable and compassionate, ShinRa would not have been a bad organization at all.

"I do not want us to become involved in this war. Frankly, it is none of our concern – we just need to figure out a way to get home. As long as we steer clear of either the Imperials or the New Republic, we shouldn't have a problem. The fact that Markos seems able to travel around freely, for the most part, indicates that private citizens are able to move as they please."

"Okay, steer clear of the squabbling governments, check. But how do we go about finding a way home, if we can't go back to Dak'tar?"

"We _can_ go back … just not at the moment. Markos doesn't believe that the Imperials will stay too long on the planet, once they realize there's nothing there. In the meantime, we either consider ourselves his guests and are stuck with him, or head out on our own …"

"… Which is probably not the brightest thing to do, considering the circumstances, eh?"

Sephiroth shook his head in response.

"But shouldn't there be some other place we can find information about the planet? I mean, _someone's_ got to have studied it. Even if it is only the history and not how it's able to beam up people from the Lifestream."

"Exactly. And if we _are_ in the future, then there should be mention of our civilization." Sephiroth tapped a few keys and brought something else up on the computer screen. It was a planet, and even as Zack watched, information written with strange symbols scrolled up next to it. "The database to which Markos has access has no mention of Dak'tar IV. But there are, apparently, vast libraries in existence that might contain some useful information."

Sephiroth tapped the planet, and suddenly, the previously barren desktop that Zack had been leaning against brightened to life. He jerked back, startled.

A three-dimensional, holographic display of the planet flickered into being, floating above the table's surface. The hologram, which had a bluish cast to it, slowly rotated, foreign symbols once again appearing at its sides. Zack stared, entranced. As he leaned closer, he could make out the precise details of the planet's surface. Tiny lights appeared to glimmer from what looked like a continuous landscape of miniature skyscrapers, as the occasional wispy cloud drifted past.

"Wow …"

"The planet Coruscant, which is currently the capital of the New Republic, holds a massive library … here." Sephiroth tapped a location on the rotating sphere, causing the display to quickly zoom in on the area. He isolated a building at the center of the new landscape, bringing it to the forefront of the display, and causing everything else to begin leisurely spinning around it. The building itself, a construction of towering minarets and expansive domes, was set apart from surrounding skyscrapers, lending it an air of importance.

Zack didn't know what he should comment on first – the amazing holographic display, or the fact that the entire planet was a thick forest of buildings and towers. Curiously, he poked his finger into the library building. Abruptly, the building retreated, zooming back to its place among the skyscrapers and leaving the planet in its stead.

"Hey! No, wait, that's not what I …" Poking again at the spot where he thought the library had vanished, he instead brought up a different building. Multiple tries brought the same result, sending various structures zooming in and back out. "… Oops," he finally commented, sheepishly. "Sorry, Seph. I dunno where it went."

Amused, Sephiroth waved a hand in dismissal. "That is just one of the libraries. The other most promising one is the Expeditionary Library." Sephiroth brought up a new planet. "Markos himself recommended this one, as both it and Dak'tar IV are located within the Unknown Regions. This library is on a planet called Csilla, deep within Chiss Space. The people there apparently maintain extensive records on every planet they have encountered; it's not unrealistic that they would have come across Dak'tar IV at one point in time."

In stark contrast to the capital world of Coruscant, Csilla was smooth and barren. Zack frowned, his eyes scanning the surface for any signs of civilization. "Where …?"

"Csilla is a frozen planet, covered in glaciers and snow. The library – as well as the entire civilization – exists beneath the ice."

"… Huh. So which one are we going to visit?" As amazing as a planet full of snow sounded, Csilla appeared positively forbidding. Zack was rather apprehensive at the idea of heading there; if their previous missions within the snowy wastes of the Northern Continent on Gaia were any sort of track record, they would likely be in for quite the frosty adventure.

Apparently Sephiroth held the same reservations. "I'd rather visit Coruscant first, if at all possible. But, as the capital of the New Republic, and on the border of the Deep Core where many of the Imperial Warlords have gone, it is probably a volatile area."

So, Csilla it was, then.

"However," Sephiroth continued, "it largely depends upon where Markos is willing to take us. Though he has expressed interest in Csilla, he has errands of his own. In short, we are at his mercy. I don't think he will go out of his way to take us somewhere, unless it also falls within his interests."

Zack bit his lip in thought. "… Do you think we oughta find our own transport there?"

Sephiroth shook his head. "Perhaps in time, but not just yet. We need to learn our way around the galaxy first."

"Yeah, guess you're right …" Zack idly watched the rotating representation of Csilla, before his attention was caught by the periodically changing display of symbols. He poked at them. "What're these? Can you tell what they mean?"

"Those …" Again, Sephiroth returned to the computer, calling up a chart of the various symbols. "Are Aurebesh characters. Aurebesh is the galactic standard alphabet, used to represent the language that we're speaking … which is simply called Basic, apparently." He pointed out the characters. "Surprisingly, it is equivalent to our own alphabet in most respects, aside from the addition of a few symbols." He glanced at Zack. "It would probably be a good idea for you to learn it."

Zack's eyes widened. "Don't tell me _you've_ learned it already?"

A shrug. "For the most part. It really isn't that difficult."

Zack raised a skeptical eyebrow, as he examined the strange symbols. Clearly Sephiroth had his own definition of 'difficult.' "Come on, you don't really think we'll be here long enough to need to know how to read the local language?"

"I know we'll be at a disadvantage if we don't. We're lucky as it is that they actually speak the same language we do."

Zack blinked, not having realized that before now. "Hey, yeah, you're right … That's pretty weird, now that I think about it. What're the chances of that?"

Sephiroth shrugged. "It lends some support to the idea that maybe Gaia is not so far removed from our location in this galaxy."

"… You mean that someone from another planet around here might have traveled to Gaia before?"

"Perhaps." Sephiroth cast a glance back at Zack. "Jenova had, after all."

Zack's eyes widened. _Jenova …_ He frowned, looking away in thought. If she'd come from another planet, did that mean that there were more of her, somewhere out here? Could there be an entire planet full of entities just like her? He shivered, not wanting to believe it could be true.

"I hope she was the only one," he said, quietly.

"As do I," Sephiroth agreed. Or that if there were more, that they would never have the misfortune to come across them. One such entity was enough for several lifetimes.

As Sephiroth returned his attention to browsing additional information on the screen, he finally noticed the tense way in which Zack gripped his arms, and realized that he hadn't yet gotten around to finding something warmer for the other SOLDIER to wear. He stood.

"It must be an indication of how deep in thought you are, if you haven't yet complained about the cold," he smirked. "Come on, let's find you something else to wear."

Momentarily taken aback at the sudden change in subject, Zack blinked, then jumped to his feet. "Yeah, where _is_ my uniform? I was gonna ask about it, but I completely forgot! …" He trailed off at the hesitant look in Sephiroth's eyes. "… What?"

"Zack … Your uniform was destroyed."

He stared, uncomprehendingly. "It … what?"

"It was torn beyond repair, both by Jenova, and in salvaging material to bandage your wounds. There wasn't anything left anyone could do for it, so I had it destroyed."

His uniform … gone? Zack shook his head. That couldn't be right … It was practically all he'd worn since joining SOLDIER so many years ago. He couldn't imagine being without it. Surely there was some mistake? He supposed he could just grab a spare, but … there weren't any spares, were there? That one uniform was all he'd arrived with.

Sephiroth watched the turmoil across Zack's face. "… I'm sorry, Zack, but there wasn't anything I could do."

"Nah …" He looked up, flashed a grin. "It's just an old, ratty uniform, right? Not like I haven't been in dire need of something else to wear, after a whole year with that thing! No big deal. 'Sides, I'm done with ShinRa. And SOLDIER." Shrugging it off, he headed for the doorway. "Time for a change of pace."

After a moment, Sephiroth slowly followed. As true as Zack's words may have been, Sephiroth was also aware of something left unsaid – that the uniform, for all that it was the symbol of a corrupt, dying organization, was also one of the few ties he had left to a life, memories, and friends he had loved.

* * *

Zack fingered the sleeve of the new blue-gray outfit he wore. He felt distinctly out of place wearing the thing. A spare uniform from Yori's crew, it did look sharp, with its high collar and military cut. But he didn't care for the strange symbol on the arm, potentially marking him as one of Yori's crew, and in any case, he felt … naked, vulnerable in the thing. Too lightweight, texture too different, not enough pockets, not enough belts, too close-fitting … He tugged at the unfamiliar feel of the stiff collar. It was just so different from his SOLDIER uniform.

_Too similar to SOLDIER's _ceremonial_ uniform,_ he grimaced. _Only without all the bells and whistles. _

Well, at least it was warmer than the hospital garb he'd been wearing. It was still cool in here, but not nearly as uncomfortable as it had been. And, after rolling his shoulders and doing a couple of experimental squats, he concluded that it did seem to fit fine, without hindering his movement.

_… I really do need a haircut, though._ He eyed the length of it in the mirror. Not as bad as it could have been, but it definitely looked like someone had tried to hack it off with a giant, unwieldy sword in the middle of the night with his eyes closed. _Well, I didn't have my eyes _closed_, but as for the rest …_

He sighed. _Maybe I should just tie it back for now._ Experimentally, he gathered it at the back of his head … only to discover that it looked like the tail of a chocobo who'd gotten too close to an electric fence. Smirking, he shook his head and let the locks fall back to their original position. _Nah. Haircut, it is, first barbershop we find!_ Idly, he wondered if they even had barbershops around here.

Stepping out of his room, he found Sephiroth waiting for him on the couch.

"So … what do you think?" He spread his arms

The former General raised an appraising eyebrow. "You look good."

"Really, ya think so? Does it bring out the color of my eyes?" He pointed to them, keeping a straight face.

Sephiroth grunted, shaking his head in amusement.

"What? I'm totally serious!"

"Hmph. … What do _you_ think of it?"

Zack sobered, considering. "I think … it's definitely temporary." He shook his head. "There's no _way_ I'm gonna go around wearing someone else's uniform, if I don't have to. If I'm gonna wear one, it's gotta be SOLDIER, or none at all. I wanna pick up something else at the first opportunity."

Sephiroth nodded. "I thought you might. I'll notify Yori; I'm sure we'll end up someplace with a suitable spaceport where we can find you something. In the meantime … I would say not to cut your hair so we can still tell you apart from the crew, but in your case …" He glanced over Zack's hair critically. "You might want to make an exception."

Zack rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, rub it in. Not my fault they don't have beauty parlors in the southern swamps!"

His friend smirked, then stood. "Come." He reached over to clap a hand on Zack's shoulder. "Let's find …" He broke off as Zack unexpectedly twitched away at the contact. His brow furrowed, and he shot the SOLDIER a questioning glance.

Zack seemed surprised himself. His eyes rose to meet Sephiroth's, then slid, guiltily, to the side. Sephiroth let his hand fall.

"… Let's find Yori," he continued. "And determine where it is we will go from here." Turning, and keeping his face carefully neutral, he swept out of the room.

"… Right behind ya, Seph," Zack murmured, glumly.

He thought things had been starting to go well … but it seemed some old habits die hard.

* * *

_to be continued …_


	11. A Certain Point of View

**Author's Note:** These are not the droids you're looking for ...

I'll bet you all thought I forgot about this! I'm afraid I'll just have to disappoint. I have no intention of abandoning it! I think I said once before that it's my long-term project, and I simply got involved with several other FF7 stories I needed to finish first - Scapegoat, Just a Little Rough Around the Edges, a couple of one-shots, a kiriban fic, and the next installment in my detective AU. So really, that's a reasonable effort for over a year of abandonment of this story. Right? XD

Anyway, I hope to devote a somewhat more regular schedule to this, probably alternating between it and the detective mysteries. Though I'm sure the FF DOINK Exchange will be coming up again this summer, and who knows what I might be possessed to do for that. (*_Ahem_* That's a _hint_ for you Seph & Zack writers/readers. ;) ) The oneshot I planned last year turned into a full, chapter-length fic, because the word 'short' is apparently not in my vocabulary.

In any case, with Star Wars hitting the theatres again, I've really gotten back into the research for this story! I'm re-reading books I haven't read for _years_, so hopefully I'll know what I'm talking about. XD If you see any inconsistencies, feel free to let me know. I am actually trying to be accurate to the SW universe, with the exception of anything I simply make up. Next stop: Mimban, and I've gotta make it there before Zack and Seph do!

Oh, and I have to really thank everyone who's been favoriting and commenting, especially since it's been over a year since the last update! I don't know how you guys find this after that long - it must be buried under a ton of rubble. But thank you, it's so awesome to know people still read this. :)

Last thing: I've got a poll on my FF(dot)net profile (up at the very top) about whether anyone would ever be interested in buying fanfiction at a convention. It's an idle curiosity, and I have no plans to do anything with it anytime soon, but I'd like to see what the general feeling is for that sort of thing. Feel free to answer however you like! Thanks a bunch!

Enough rambling. Hope you enjoy the story! :)

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

**A Certain Point of View**

* * *

Captain Yori Markos stood upon the bridge when the SOLDIERs entered. He glanced up when they arrived, lifted a hand to indicate a moment, and returned his attention to the man he was currently speaking with. Zack, new to the bridge, looked about in curiosity.

The room was spacious, framing an enormous window – _viewport_ – looking out upon the stars and the planet below them. It was dim here, the only light coming from coolly luminescing panels which seemed more to serve as accents than real lighting. The perimeter of the room, on either side and toward the front, consisted of a pit where several uniformed attendants manned various stations and computer banks. The center of the room was essentially a wide dais from which the captain could observe the actions of those beneath him; it was circled by a railing. There was a single dark chair in the center, while a wide staircase spilled downward toward the viewport, which occupied the entire forward wall. Two other, much narrower staircases also accessed the control pit from the far rear corners of the room.

As the captain conversed, Zack wandered further onto the bridge, stopping at the railing near the viewport. He couldn't help but be, once again, entranced by the magnificent vista. It was still so … unreal. He wasn't sure he'd ever get used to the idea of flying in space … or that space travel seemed to be as commonplace as walking. The crew working in the pit barely seemed to give the window a passing glance, almost as if they'd seen such a view a thousand times before. Which they probably had, Zack realized.

Sephiroth stepped up beside him.

"… Can you believe it, Seph?" Zack asked, in practically a whisper.

Quiet, Sephiroth shook his head. "I don't know if I ever will."

"I know what you mean. I still think this must be a dream … _Look_ at this. Just look at it all … It's just … it's so far beyond anything that ShinRa ever imagined! Hard to believe that this was all out … out there, out _here_, wherever … and we never even knew about it. And can you imagine, Seph … this must be just the tip of the iceberg! Incredible. It's just …" Zack trailed off, shaking his head, at a loss for words to explain just how incredible it really was.

"Refreshing." At Yori's cultured tone, the SOLDIERs turned, finding the man stepping up beside them. "To view things through such young eyes," he clarified, then shrugged, "so to speak. This view, despite its beauty, has become old to me." He waved a hand, indicating their surroundings. "This technology, commonplace, hardly state-of-the art … for the most part. But for you, so new, so fascinating … I was like that, once." A thin, fleeting smile crossed his face, and he turned his gaze toward the stars before them. "It is difficult, now, to find that … _feeling_, that _inspiration_, that sense of _discovery_ that returns the thrill, that gets the blood to pumping …" There was a long pause before Yori once again regarded them. "Which is why I am glad to have you as my guests, and to experience that sense of wonder once more, through your eyes … if only just a little."

He waved a hand. "But enough of such idle chatter. Zack, it is good to see you up and about, at last. I hope you have rested well?" Yori turned his pale eyes upon the younger of the two SOLDIERs, appraising the fit of the new uniform. He noticed that the man's bandages had been stripped away, or at least that his arm was no longer bound to his side, and wondered whether he'd chosen to tough it out. Surely he couldn't be fully healed? It was only two days ago when Yori had seen him last, and even with the more-than-adequate medical care his ship possessed, without bacta, that would be … impossible – for a _normal_ human.

Zack nodded. "Yep! I feel great. Between your docs and Seph, I'm as good as new! I gotta thank you for the rescue, by the way … you know, back on the planet." Here, he rubbed the back of his neck, somewhat embarrassed. "From what Seph tells me, I was in pretty bad shape." The former General had related to Zack what had followed from the time he'd woken and discovered the younger SOLDIER unconscious and critically injured. And, though Sephiroth had intentionally left out his own desperation, there'd been something in his voice, and something in the words he'd used, that led Zack to guess at just how bad things had really been. Remorseful, Zack glanced over at his friend. The man's face betrayed no emotion.

"Indeed." Yori noted the reference to Sephiroth having something to do with the healing, and mentally recorded it for later. "It's fortunate that I happened to be in the area. That _anyone_ happened to be in the area, for that matter." _Else you would be dead._ Zack heard the unspoken phrase, and suppressed a shudder.

"Come, come!" Yori continued, once again waving off the subject. He began to walk, leading the way across the bridge. "We have much to discuss, now that you are both awake and well." Cloak billowing, he took them past the lift that had brought them to the bridge, and down a short corridor to a small room. It held only a single table surrounded by chairs, with a viewscreen on one wall; it looked like a private meeting room. They filed inside, taking seats at the table.

Yori began to busy himself with a small console embedded in the surface of the table; as he did this, he observed the two SOLDIERs from the corner of his eye while they waited, Zack idly fidgeting with the cuff of his uniform. More than anything else, he desired to interrogate them about what they'd seen and done on Dak'tar IV. Still, he remained unsatisfied with the answers he'd been provided – Sephiroth, he knew, was intentionally avoiding the issue; Yori suspected that, even approached directly, the man would simply refuse to tell him. But why? He was concealing something – that much was obvious. He suspected it must have something to do with the crystals beneath the temple, or something related to them, but couldn't be positive. At the very least, it was related to their origin on the barren rock, and that by itself was enough to make Yori want to know.

Zack, on the other hand, had revealed much more than Sephiroth, whether unknowingly or intentionally. But even that had been frustrating, as many of the topics had been bare hints, which Zack had neglected elaborating upon. Where was this Gaia, and how was it related to Dak'tar IV? What was the Forgotten City? The Lifestream? Who was Jenova, and why had Zack seemed unconcerned about leaving her on the planet? More than that, what was it about her that had left him so hesitant? It was understandable, given his shaken and exhausted condition at the time, that Zack would miss Yori's interest in these topics, but it left Yori irked – where, at the time, he was certain to have received the information had he asked and Zack been less occupied by other thoughts, now, Sephiroth was sure to have spoken to him and shared whatever cautions he'd had. Zack would be less likely to reveal their secrets so easily, now.

With both of them together, he knew that the probability of successfully getting the information he wanted would be low. He would need to approach the matter carefully now, gain their trust … or at least Zack's. He would need to separate the two of them. Zack was less wary than Sephiroth, it appeared, though there was something else about him … Beneath his laid back, easygoing attitude, there was something there … a watchful edge, unnoticeable but for the way the boy's eyes constantly moved, a set to the shoulders that was not fully at ease. He'd taken a seat across the table from the entrance, and his eyes routinely drifted to it. Yori hesitated at calling it nervous, but almost …

Sephiroth cleared his throat. "Captain, you mentioned previously that you would be willing to aid us in our search for information about Dak'tar IV. I've decided the Expeditionary Library on Csilla might be our best starting point, per your recommendation. I'd prefer to avoid Coruscant and the conflict there, for the time being …"

"Ah, yes." Yori straightened. "And you wish to know whether I would take you there," he finished, with an indulgent smile.

Sephiroth nodded, once.

_A man of few words, _Yori noted wryly. Thoughtful, he steepled his fingers and rested his lips against them, considering. Finally, he raised his head.

"I, myself, am curious about the planet Dak'tar IV," he began. "I am a researcher, an archaeologist, if you will, so it is in my nature to be curious about such places. The ruins there have lain empty for thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of years, as you know," he nodded at Sephiroth, "and I know little about them. I was there once before, though my research was interrupted, and it seems I was equally unlucky this time around." He smirked, humorlessly. "For the moment, Dak'tar IV is beyond our reach.

"However, due to our mutual interest in the planet, I am willing to set aside other areas of my research in favor of this one." He spread his hands, with a smile. "The perks of self-employment. I cannot do this to the exclusion of all else, of course, so, if you are willing to tolerate my … detours … you are more than welcome to stay, and I will take you to Csilla."

Sephiroth nodded, slowly, eyeing their host. "I find that … acceptable." If nothing else, it would provide them with time to learn more about this strange galaxy in which they'd found themselves, to figure out where Gaia fit within it all. And he had to admit, grudgingly, that he was curious about this place. He didn't know what it would hold for either him or Zack, less if they could not find Gaia … now that they were alive, what were they to do? Finding a way back home was a start, but how far they should pursue that goal – how far they even _wanted_ to pursue that goal – was a question that Sephiroth had not even begun to try to answer. They were, quite literally, confronted with a universe of possibilities, right at their fingertips. Sephiroth's immediate concern had been for Zack's, and his own, wellbeing, and he would be lying to himself if he didn't admit that he'd focused on the idea of _home_ simply to provide direction, some kind of scant structure, to their new existence. He would need to widen his view from this narrow path at some point … perhaps sooner rather than later, depending on how things went from here.

"I must know, however," Yori's voice broke into Sephiroth's thoughts, "what exactly it is that you hope to discover about Dak'tar IV?"

Sephiroth's gaze drew even with Yori's, and he evaluated the man before him.

"Come now, Sephiroth." The man allowed a knowing smile to cross his face. "You and I both know that you have been concealing things from me. It is clear that you have never set foot upon a starship before, never left your home planet, this Gaia … at least to your knowledge. You were just as surprised as I to find yourself upon Dak'tar IV. So why not be frank about it? I have promised to help you in this endeavor; our interests are the same. We should be allies. Why continue this avoidance?"

The tension in the room was thin, but palpable. Zack's eyes flicked between the two of them; he finally settled upon Sephiroth. He recalled the man's words of caution from before, and wondered what he'd say. When Sephiroth's gaze drifted in his direction, he shrugged. If Yori had already guessed as much, and if they really had just magically appeared on the planet, he didn't see the point in trying to beat around the bush.

Finally, Sephiroth sighed; it was almost imperceptible. "You'll forgive me for being cautious – I didn't know how much I should trust you, despite our rescue. I still don't." His gaze challenged Yori, who met him evenly. "However, you do have a point." Sephiroth paused to frame his words. It was another moment before he took a breath to continue. "We were taken from Gaia, our home planet, and deposited upon the place you call Dak'tar IV. I do not know how, or why – it was done without our knowledge." Zack watched; though it was true, the former General intentionally left out any mention of their activities in the Lifestream prior. "Gaia possesses only … _rudimentary_ space technology, at least by your standards, so, yes, all this is unfamiliar to us." He lifted a hand, indicating their surroundings.

There was another pause, before he continued. "For all I know, Gaia is indeed located within the so-called _Unknown Regions_ of your galaxy. I do not know where, for I am unfamiliar with that, too. Logically, I can only assume that we came to Dak'tar IV by way of some visitors to our planet. I would like to know why, I would like to know who, I would like to know what significance Dak'tar IV possesses, if any, and I would like to know where my home is," he concluded, once more lifting his gaze to meet Yori's. Zack clearly saw Sephiroth's invisible smugness at his successful skirting of the real answer, and wondered whether Yori would dare to question it.

He didn't, though his disappointment was evident.

"I see." The explanation was plausible, Yori supposed, though failed to explain what he'd hoped it would. He realized his hope had been futile; Sephiroth would not tell him anything he did not wish to tell him, though for all Yori knew, his scenario could very well be true. He debated questioning him about the intense Force signature he'd felt, which he believed _must_ have been linked to their appearance … But it could just as easily have not been, which he was certain Sephiroth would say, if he didn't claim ignorance of it entirely. And, of course, it did not explain the strong presences sitting across the table from him.

Clearly, Sephiroth was not to be outmaneuvered … this time.

"Very well." Yori cleared his throat and chose to press on. He tapped a button on his console; a large orb sprung into existence above the center of the table and began to slowly rotate. Zack leaned forward, interested. The projection was slightly transparent, with a bluish cast to it, like the one he'd seen before. Despite that, washed-out colors were still discernible – large swaths of mottled green circled the globe, covering the majority of it, and broken up only by haphazard blotches of deep indigo, as if a careless painter had dabbed fitfully at it with a brush.

"This is Circarpous V, known locally as Mimban. It is located in the Expansion Region on the Nanth'ri Trade Route," Yori began. "As I said, we have a few stops to make prior to Csilla; this is one of them. The planet is covered primarily with jungle and swampland, and is very sparsely populated with only about a million inhabitants – primarily the indigenous Mimbanites and Coway. There are also a handful of old Imperial mining towns, but neither should concern us – the towns contain only Mimbanites, as the Empire abandoned them a decade ago, and the rest of the locals keep to themselves, mostly underground. There is nothing to interest us in the towns; the mining sites themselves are highly radioactive, in any case.

"What I am interested in are the old ruins scattered throughout the jungle. They are numerous, built by some vanished civilization, and are worthy of study, since they've been largely ignored by both the human settlers and the Empire. Additionally, the planet is the source of Thaissen crystals, which I hope to acquire for my own purposes."

Yori cleared his throat. "Though you have no obligation to accompany me to the planet, you are most certainly invited. It is rare that I have visitors, and you may find an expedition to the planet's surface to be … refreshing after the confinement of the ship."

Zack's eyes lit up, and he had to work hard to smother the grin that threatened to spread across his face. Through he wasn't sure what half the terms were, it was such a thrill to hear the briefing, to have it resemble those he'd gotten numerous times back at ShinRa, but about Wutai or Junon or Mideel … and here it was a _planet_! A _real life alien planet_, with exotic landscapes and plants, and all sorts of weird alien life running around … Gaia, he couldn't believe it, and it was all he could do not to get up and bounce around in glee. For the life of him, he felt fourteen again and practically buzzing with the excitement of preparing for a new mission with Angeal to some place he'd never been and could only imagine. He cast his gaze to Sephiroth.

"What d'you say, Seph? Could be fun! Better than any research you'll get here."

"Hm." Sephiroth made a show of considering the offer, if only to needle Zack. "I don't know. You have a lot to catch up on regarding galactic affairs." At the _C'mon, are you serious?_ expression he was given, he relented. "But it's not as if we have anything else to do. I wouldn't mind seeing this planet."

Satisfied, Yori smiled. "Excellent. It will take us roughly three days to get there after we finish stocking up on supplies. I recommend you rest and make whatever preparations you may need – I have a variety of gear available. Keep in mind, we will likely be staying several days planetside, not necessarily in the shuttle, and the wildlife may be unfriendly. You'll find additional information on the local fauna in the ship's databanks." He stood; the SOLDIERs followed suit. "Anything else, do not hesitate to ask around, or, failing that, come find me. You have free reign of the ship, but please stay out of the artifact rooms, as they house some rather … personal … collections."

Sephiroth nodded. "Understood."

"Got it!" Zack gave a mock salute. Now that he was up and about, he was itching to explore the ship further. A certain restlessness had settled itself upon him, and he keenly felt the need to _move_. Maybe there'd even be some kind of exercise or training room – that would be ideal! He could use the practice, and his muscles longed for the feel of the swing of the Buster Sword. Besides, the kata helped to calm him, and he desperately needed the time alone to think. He still felt swamped by … well, _everything_.

The holoprojection flickered and vanished as Yori shut it down, and they followed him out the door.

"Where're ya off to now, Seph?" Zack wondered.

"Research." Sephiroth didn't need to see the answering smirk on Zack's face to know it was there. "I'd suggest the same for you, but I know by now that it's futile."

"Hey, I'll get to it!" They parted ways from Yori as he returned to the bridge. They continued to the lift, Zack bouncing on his toes. "… Eee-ventually. Gotta scout out our surroundings first!"

"The cafeteria, you mean?"

Zack waved a hand, making a noise of dismissal. "I've found that already."

"Why am I not surprised?"

The other rolled his eyes, but chose to ignore the comment. "There's even a menu and everything, and it looks great! … Except I can't read a word of it."

Sephiroth regarded him from across the elevator, and leaned against the wall, arms crossed. Zack's eyes twinkled, knowing full well he'd left that opening and wondering what Sephiroth would say to it. Sephiroth's lips twitched, before he sighed. "I'll locate a children's picture menu for you."

"Oh, _would_ you, Seph? That'd be swell." Zack grinned. "Say, could you read it to me, too?"

"Don't push your luck." The lift _dinged_ to a stop, the door _swished_ open. Sephiroth straightened and strode from the car. "There's a test on your Aureks, Beshes, and Creshes at the end of the week."

Zack blinked, taken aback. "On my … on my _what_? … Seph?" Baffled, Zack hurried after him. "You're not serious are you? On my what? Seph!"

Sephiroth could only chuckle to himself.

It was good to be alive again.

* * *

Zack swung the Buster Sword in a wide, slow arc, focusing on the easy movement of his muscles as his arms guided the blade. As he brought it toward his right, he dropped the tip, simultaneously stepped forward, once, with his left foot, and swung it out, forward, and up at an angle across his body, pivoting just so. At the height of the uppercut, he allowed the blade to carve an arc over his head, stepped with his right foot, and brought it back down at another diagonal, to cross the first. Keeping the movements leisurely and smooth, he now stepped backward, flowing into a sequence of deliberate blocks. Then, with a sudden explosion of power, he leapt forward with a series of abrupt jabs at his imaginary foe, lashed out with the weapon, spun, tripped the enemy, finished him with a final thrust, and flowed once more back into the slow, meditative movements of before. Sweat glistened on his brow.

After some exploration, Zack had finally stumbled onto the training room's entrance on the lowest level of the ship. It was surprisingly large, the training room – not large enough that he wanted to be stuck doing laps around the perimeter for an extended period of time, but certainly large enough for just about anything else he wanted to do. The bulkhead arced high overhead, many times his own height, and he guessed that this entire section of the ship had been hollowed out specifically for the space. Large windows on the slanted ceiling opened onto a spectacular view of the stars, which Zack appreciated, and it looked like retractable panels covered additional windows along the walls. An alcove far to one side of the room contained a handful of some kind of exercise machinery – at least that's what Zack assumed they were; he had yet to puzzle them out – and there was an array of practice weapons nearby, on the inside wall. The lights were a little on the low side at the moment. Zack hadn't figured out how to brighten them, but that suited him just fine, allowing for a quiet, contemplative atmosphere.

He'd left to fetch his sword and change into more appropriate attire for a workout, and was glad to see the room just as quiet and empty upon his return. After a few laps to get his blood flowing, he'd launched into a strenuous serious of exercises designed to burn up his restlessness before the kata, which were at once both achingly familiar and strangely new.

He'd done these exercises countless times back at ShinRa, in SOLDIER … he remembered keeping pace with Kunsel, each striving to out-do the other, remembered Angeal's gruff voice barking out the numbers in the background, behind the sound of his heavy breathing. He remembered counting them himself, in his head, when Angeal was no longer there to count for him, and remembered his own voice shouting them, between words of encouragement, at new recruits taking the SOLDIER exams. And the nostalgia there ached, because of what it was all connected to, and because of what he wished to have back, but would never have again, even if he were still on Gaia.

Despite that, however, it was all new and fresh, almost as if he'd never done them before, except he had, because his muscles remembered them, and he had the scars to prove it. It was almost like he'd felt when he received his first Mako injection – everything felt different, unfamiliar, _more_ than it had before. And it wasn't just this, these exercises, but _everything_. The movements came too fast for his liking, or too slow; clothing was either too soft or too abrasive, mostly the latter; the air was too cold and too full of distracting currents that sabotaged his focus, and too full of scents that were so familiar as to be overwhelming, or so strange as to be entirely unsettling and mildly claustrophobic.

The sounds he heard were similarly remarkable. As he moved through his slow dance with the sword, keenly aware through his bare fingers of each strand, each small imperfection, in the woven fabric wrap on the hilt, he heard the material _creak_, loudly, distinctly. He heard the blade not merely whisper through the air, but _sing_, heard his boots brush and tap and stomp the floor, and their echoes in the cavernous room as the sounds bounced from the walls, and the echoes of the echoes. Beyond that, and beyond his breathing and heartbeat and the very sound of the air itself, he heard, clearly, the all-encompassing _hum_ of the ship, as if it was a living beast with him inside it, breathing with a continuous purr of energy and activity and voices, all blending together into an entangled symphony of tones and vibrations.

It was this that he struggled to tune out, even as he could pick out the clear, bell-like conversations of those who passed in the hallway outside, though the thick bulkhead door was sealed. This, and the sharpness of his eyesight, which tried to dazzle him with the stars above, or the numerous gleaming surfaces of the ship, or the intricate details of the workings of everything. It was a Mako high all over again, because he hadn't felt, or seen, or heard, or smelled, or tasted since his death. And although he knew he'd sensed in _some way_ in the Lifestream, because he could hear and see and feel things there, too, he now knew that it was fundamentally different from the senses of life. He might as well have been blind and deaf before he awoke back on the planet, for that's almost how the shock of sudden _awareness_ struck him. So new now, and freshly _amazing_ in a way that had no words …

_And painful_, he thought, remembering the spear of agony that had been Jenova. _What a welcome back to the world of the living. _He winced, his shoulder giving a sympathetic twinge.

But, looking past that to now … after so many years of _nothingness_, as far as his body was concerned, to finally feel again … he had utterly no idea what he'd been missing. It was overwhelming just how _intense_ everything was, though he tried not to show it – it had been long enough since his days as a newbie SOLDIER Third, and he had no desire for a repeat of that silliness. Besides, though it was more incredible than he could say, right now he just wanted … silence.

He wanted, more than anything else at that moment, to just turn everything _off_. It was almost _too_ much, the ultra-enhanced senses coupled with the strangeness of their current predicament. He was past feeling like he'd had the rug torn out from under him, and more like he was far into the free fall, but one that was buffeted and spun and tumbled by turbulent winds.

_Makes me wonder … does Sephiroth feel like this?_ He hadn't mentioned it, not really, though Zack knew him well enough to know that he was unsettled and likely overwhelmed as well. _But what about … the intensity of everything?_ Zack had been entirely unprepared for that, never mind that he'd been unprepared to _live_ again, in the first place. But he'd seen no sign that Sephiroth had been affected that way. Maybe he'd simply gotten over it, or was just better at hiding it. Or maybe he really hadn't experienced coming to life the same way Zack had. After all, he'd been operating on the fringes of life this whole time, through the Remnants or clones, and he'd returned to life once already. Heck, he hadn't truly joined the Lifestream until at least a year after Zack had – he'd still had his body, at least. So, maybe life for him had never lost its familiarity, the way it had for Zack.

That also made him wonder … did Sephiroth miss the Lifestream like he did? He wouldn't go so far as to say he wanted to be back there, but … well …

_ It's just … I wasn't … I feel so _alone_ now._ The Lifestream had been a warm bath of sunshine, of soothing voices and presences, some of which he knew and loved. They'd surrounded him and spoke to him, the soul of the Planet, and it felt like the glorious bliss between dreams and awakening, where you could linger forever in perfect contentment. Experiencing that, being there, especially for as long as Zack had … it changed a person. You became a part of that, and they became a part of you. It was wonderful and so comfortable, and it made it easy to see how that existence could supplant the one he'd known before. It wasn't long before he'd felt that this was _right_ and _where he belonged_ … especially with Aerith and Angeal there.

So, now, despite the incredible gift of life … it felt like something dear to him had been ripped away. He was alone, but alone in a way that made his soul feel like it was empty. Like there were pieces of him missing, and he was cold, in this barren world of nothing and metal. He longed for the presence of the Lifestream, for their calming voices, and not the harsh, clanging, chaotic voices he heard now, and couldn't escape.

It was a dichotomy, the opposing things he felt now, being alive.

Most of all, he longed for Aerith and Angeal. To think of them now made his heart clench painfully, in a way that it hadn't since his death. He _missed_ them. He didn't think he'd ever have to miss anyone ever again, after dying, but here he was, doing just that. And it _hurt_. Even though he knew with his very soul where they were, because he'd _been_ there, and that they were fine and there was nothing wrong with them, or wrong with where they were … it was still wrong, because they weren't _here_.

He knew he had no reason to be sad that they were … _dead_, he might as well admit it … but he was. Maybe he was just sad for himself, if not for them, he really didn't know. But he loved Aerith, so much. He wanted to spend his entire life with her, or afterlife, it didn't matter as long as it was with her. He wanted to hold her and never let go, because she was his light and his better half, and his entire reason for _living_ and _trying_ … But that was gone now. Now, that great Barrier had been placed between them, and what shouldn't have been sad … _was_. Being alive was a miracle he had no right to be anything but profoundly grateful for. But how was it okay to be alive when she was not?

As for Angeal … the old pain of losing him was fresh again. He wanted to hear his mentor's voice, listen to his ridiculous stories, be scolded for his carelessness, bask in his approval. He wanted to tease him about being old and stuffy and a grump and a mama chocobo, drive him to growing more gray hairs, spar with him and lose because Angeal had always been more awesome, and tackle him in a hug that he'd pretend to escape. But he had no hope of doing that now … and he felt, again as he'd had when Angeal had gone the first time, that he'd missed something important. That he hadn't listened enough to his mentor when he'd had the chance, that he hadn't spent the time with him that he should have, and that there was some crucial piece of wisdom that he hadn't learned yet … and now never would.

Zack's arms trembled. It threw off his swing. He tried to compensate, to continue, but overreached with the next movement and caused himself to stagger.

What on Gaia was he doing? Mourning them? It was ridiculous, any logical person could see that. Zack had a deeper understanding of things, having been to the Lifestream himself. There was no need to worry, to be afraid, to be unhappy. It was important that he make the most of his second chance, for, through it, he'd found Sephiroth and rescued him. And he would never give that up. What were these feelings? He didn't need them.

He'd live for Sephiroth now.

But the feelings were there, much as he wished they weren't. He was empty and incomplete, adrift in a place he wasn't sure he wanted to be. He didn't know where he was going, or what he was trying for. What was out there, for him? What was the point? What on Gaia was he doing?

The point of his sword slowly fell to the ground. He realized he was covered in sweat, and that he was no longer sure just how long he'd been practicing. There really wasn't a good way to tell the time in here, with the unchanging starscape above him. He swiped the back of his arm against his forehead, irritated at the way his hand shook.

He should probably track down Sephiroth again, maybe share some of his thoughts. As awkward as the man sometimes was, often times he could provide a good perspective. And, really, despite the nagging reservations some part of him still had, Sephiroth could still offer a good arm to lean on. With his other two sources of support gone now, Seph's was the only one he had left.

He couldn't forget, of course, that Cloud was still out there, somewhere. And that was the whole point of things, now, wasn't it? To get back home. To get back to the one other person he still had left, because, maybe with that, he wouldn't feel so much as if his spirit had been sundered. Maybe, on Gaia, he'd feel that much closer to Aerith and Angeal.

But, looking up at the stars … where did you even begin? They were so far away, and so, so many … What was the concept of home, in the face of that? It was so tiny as to be insignificant. How could he ever find it? Was it even out there? Maybe it was gone for good, or if it wasn't, maybe he'd never make it back. Maybe it was too far, or maybe there just wasn't the time in his lifetime to find it.

Could he bear it if Aerith and Angeal dwindled to just a tiny memory, swept away into the distant past? If, years and years from now, he and Sephiroth were still out here, having never found them, or Cloud, or home? What would be the point of things _then_? What would be the point of anything, anymore? Would he move on? _Could_ he? They'd been the center of his existence for as long as he'd known them, but, if he lived long enough, even a normal lifetime, their time would certainly not even approach the majority of it. Could he stand it?

He didn't think he could.

Well, he'd just have to find home, then. There was no way around it, because there was no other possible solution.

A heartfelt sigh escaped him, and he swung the Buster Sword onto his back, foregoing the usual flourish. Its weight settled onto him, as heavy as it had ever been. The pink ribbon around the hilt tickled his neck. He let his arm fall, and simply stared at nothing for a moment, trying to just let things sink in.

An unexpected noise behind him had him pivoting, dropping into a ready stance in the blink of an eye. His sword was out and angled for the throat of the person who'd just entered the room.

"Whoa! Let's uh … let's not be hasty here! I'm sorry …?" The man had his hands up, frozen, staring down the point of the blade. He took a step back.

Startled at his own actions, Zack did likewise, pulling the sword away. "Sorry! You, uh … surprised me, that's all." He shrugged, offering a sheepish grin. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt anyone."

Warily, the man eyed him, slowly dropping his arms. Zack watched him back. Backlit by the hallway light, he was a little shorter than Zack, with dirty blond hair, and dressed for working out. A woman and two other men stood behind him, also looking at Zack as if he was a loose cannon. They were dressed similarly.

Zack cleared his throat. "… Well … I guess I'll let you guys get to work then. I'm done here." He moved to head around them, uncomfortable, and wanting to put the incident behind him.

"Sure … Were you practicing in here?"

Zack paused. "Yeah." He inclined his head to the sword now settled once more upon his back.

"In the dark?" The man was skeptical.

The SOLDIER frowned. "In the …?" Realization struck him, just as the woman tinkered with a panel set into the wall, bringing the lights on. "Ah." He blinked rapidly, turning his head down at the sudden change in brightness. The light stung his eyes. "No wonder I thought it was a little dim." He grinned. Then, at an effort to remove some of the oddness they all regarded him with, he reached out a hand. "I'm new here. Zack Fair." _SOLDIER First Class_ was on the tip of his tongue, but he managed to hold it back.

Somewhat hesitant, the man shook his hand. "Tristin Ivers." He inclined his head at the others in the group. "This is Chay and Warwick, and this-"

"Hey, you're the guy the captain brought aboard, aren't you? The one they sent to Sick Bay?" The woman stepped forward, interrupting.

Zack blinked, unsure if being famous for that was a good thing. "Uh. Yeah …?"

"I remember you! I met you in the hallway when they discharged you. Remember?" She shook his hand. "Emre Jyrki, but you can just call me Em."

"O-oh … right, yeah!" Now that she mentioned it, she did look a little familiar. "With the … that other guy, right? Yeah, I got lost again, after your directions, but it's all good now." He grinned.

The lady elbowed Tristin. "See, what did I tell you? He's got hair like a bunch of nexu spines."

"I'm seeing it, but I'm not believing it."

Zack chuckled weakly, running a hand through said hair. He supposed he really did need to get it cut, if it deserved cracks like that. And what the heck was a nexu?

"So, you look pretty good," she continued. That brought Zack up short. Was she checking him out? He picked at the edge of his thin shirt, a little self-conscious. Maybe he should have found something else … "I mean, since I saw you last," she clarified. "Are you staying with us long?"

"Oh. Uh … I dunno, I might. It really all depends … we're trying to get back to our home planet, and Yori's promised to help us. So I guess I'll be hanging around for however long that'll take."

"Where are you from?" Tristin asked.

"Gaia. Ever heard of it?"

The other man shook his head. "No … can't say I have. Where is it?"

A shrug. "I don't know."

"You don't … you don't _know_?" Tristin was incredulous. "How'd you get from there to Dak'tar IV, if you don't know?"

"I don't know that, either."

They all stared at him. "Is there anything you _do_ know?"

Zack smirked. "Not much."

One of the other men, Warwick, shook his head. "What a piece of work."

Zack's expression broadened into a smug grin. "That's what a lot of people think."

Em shook her head, smiling. "Unbelievable."

"Well, at least he's got a sword to match his ego," Tristin said. He walked around Zack to get a better look at it. Zack turned his head, watching him. "Would you look at the size of that thing? It's massive."

"It's ridiculous," the last man, Chay, spoke up.

Both amused and a little defensive, Zack responded, "It's not so ridiculous if it does the job, is it?"

"Yes, it is," he disagreed. "Nobody uses swords like that. Nobody uses swords, _period_. Are you from a low-rent planet, or something? Something like that will just slow you down. We use blasters out here. Or force pikes, or vibroblades. Someone will carve you up before you ever have a chance to swing that thing, or melt it to slag. What a waste of space," he scoffed.

Rather taken aback, Zack stared at him. Clearly, the guy had no concept of SOLDIER reflexes, but it was the comment about melting his precious sword to slag that got him. Protectively, he lifted a hand to grasp its hilt. Was that really a danger? Were there weapons here, common weapons, that could do such a thing? The Buster Sword could distribute heat with remarkable efficiency, but it wasn't invulnerable. Zack didn't want to lose it.

"Yeah, well … I'll take care of it."

"Sure." Chay smirked. "You'd be better off leaving it at home. It's only good as a display piece anyway – that thing couldn't possibly be practical."

It was here that Zack's grin returned. His mood lightened; suddenly, he was itching for a good contest, for the distraction it would provide. "Oh yeah? You willing to bet on that?"

Chay stepped up to him. "Is that a challenge?"

"You bet."

"All right. Hmm …" The man swung out a hand to clap Tristin on the shoulder, who started. "You fight my pal here-"

"What! You don't have the guts to fight me yourself, after that?" Zack exclaimed.

Chay shrugged. "Hey, I'm a blaster man! I can't be expected to fight with something as archaic as a sword. Now, Tristin, here, he's a real pro with a blade. He'll give you a run for your money."

"Thanks a lot, pal," Tristin muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Anytime."

Zack was skeptical. "Hm. Well, alright … but you're gonna have to earn the right to face the Buster." Here, he swung the sword off and headed for the weapons rack on the other side of the gym. Unenhanced, these guys wouldn't stand a chance against the sword – one swing would knock them clear out of the arena, and he wanted to at least give them a fighting chance. Sort of. He was a SOLDIER after all. "We'll use these practice blades, and if you beat me, you can challenge my sword."

Tristin and Chay looked at each other, before Tristin shrugged. He didn't care.

"Fair enough."

Zack chose two standard blades, made of some kind of unsharpened metal, and was unexpectedly pleased that they had a decent heft to them. He'd half expected them to feel like twigs. Reverently laying the Buster on the floor near the wall, he tossed one sword to his opponent, and twirled the other. They moved to face off.

As they sized each other up, Emre took a moment to investigate the giant blade on the floor. She tried to lift it, and gasped in surprise.

"Holy Sith, this is heavy!"

"Did it look light to you?" Zack quipped.

She waved Chay and Warwick over, and the three struggled to lift the weapon. Finally, though it took all three of them, they managed to get it off the ground.

"Careful," he said, lightly. He watched, amused, with half his attention still on his opponent, who, by now, was staring in shock.

"How could you possibly _use_ this thing?"

"Well, what did you expect? I'm a SOLDIER." He smirked at them. "Now," turning to the suddenly apprehensive Tristin, he spun his blade, "didn't you have a challenge for me?" Grinning widely, he lunged.

* * *

_to be continued …_


End file.
